


Blue Sky Beneath

by TheArtOfBlossoming



Series: Blue Sky Beneath [1]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: AU, Diverges from canon, Multi, Not Canon Compliant, Not SoSu, Not the sole survivor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-27
Updated: 2017-10-30
Packaged: 2018-12-20 12:20:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 13
Words: 24,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11920788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheArtOfBlossoming/pseuds/TheArtOfBlossoming
Summary: What if the person to break into the Institute wasn't the 'Vault Dweller'?What if the Sole Survivor didn't survive long enough to take down the bogeyman? Who would step into their place?Based on an actual playthrough with some added Alternate Universe twists.





	1. Sanctuary

_Where was I when he woke up? Tagging along with the caravan that brought me South, until the raiders ambushed us and took everything. I only survived because I ran. I was supposed to protect them. Yeah, right, what with? With my crappy Pipe pistol and its three bullets? They ate them up and still kept coming. With what Pa called my 'gumption'? Ha, my survival instinct kicked that in the teeth…and ran._

_I scrabbled up a rockface and found this weird old place. I thought it was prewar military but it didn't look quite right. It had what I thought was some kind of arena raised up slightly off the ground. Inside a lookout post was this tempting, big red button, so I pushed it. 'Curiosity killed the cat,' Ma often warned me, playing on the fact my middle name is Katrijnora. I ignored that memory, as usual._

_The big round gear thing in the middle started sinking, so what did I do? Jumped right on it, of course. Nearly shit my pants when it kept going down, into the dark. Still, I was pretty sure I'd lost the raiders._

_The platform finally stopped and the noise of it and the rusty gate opening should have brought anyone down here running. Nothing. I ventured out and my already tatty pants caught on a wire and ripped. I disentangled myself and cautiously started searching the place. I knew I was in a Vault. The big fucking Welcome sign gave that away. What was weirdest, though was that there was no scav anywhere. Well, except for that box of blue vault suits. I found one my size and changed into it. I'd stick out like a sore thumb but at least I wouldn't be flashing my butt cheeks around._

_Deeper in, I found them. The bodies. Sealed in pods, some very slowly defrosting I could tell by the little rivers of water on the floor. One near the end was open and dry. Opposite that was a woman. I don't know why but I just sat and stared at her for ages, feeling…well I can't say what I was feeling. I shifted soon as my stomach told me it was empty. Found a water fountain and risked it, tasted good so I filled my belly._

_I looked around but there was nothing save a few 'roach shells and one 10mm round. They could have at least put pockets in these vault suits. I tucked it down my cleavage instead._

_When I came back to the elevator I hit the red button and nothing happened. Zip. So I searched around and found a narrow metal-runged ladder in the side of the shaft. Took me forever but I made it back up. I searched the vehicles and caravans for food, weapons, anything. Nope, nothing. Went downhill, across a bridge and found these old houses. By this time I was exhausted and hungry as a mutant hound. The houses were empty. Well, almost.  
_

Codsworth hummed happily to himself as he polished the counter. Sir was back and maybe he could get back to his core programming soon. If he'd been a construction bot he would have had the Woods' residence looking like new by now but Sir was more of a builder than he.

His right ocular orb registered movement. He swivelled all three lenses round to see a slight, well-endowed, dark-haired woman running over the bridge. She noticed him and if he had breath it would have caught in his throat, had he one of those too.

She cautiously approached him. 

"Ma'am! It is so good to…ah. Apologies. I…ah…mistook you for someone else. A dreadful error on my part. The missus…she…she passed away."

The robot sounded on the verge of tears. Skyler hoped he wasn't about to malfunction violently.

"Um, there there, Mr. Handy," she soothed, having no idea what to say to the rusty old guy.

"Registration C0-D5W0R-74, Miss but you may call me Codsworth."

"Ok. Hey, know where I can get a bite to eat round here, Codsworth?"

"Excuse me for not immediately answering your query, Miss but I happen to notice that you are wearing a 111 vault-suit. Only residents of Sanctuary Hills were issued those and I do not recognise you as one of our neighbours."

Skyler frowned briefly. "Neigbours? Oh, no, I'm not from round here. I just borrowed one to cover my assets."

"Miss?"

"My pants tore."

"Ah. Unfortunate. Well, to answer your question, I'm sure Sir wouldn't mind sharing a little nourishment. I'd go with you, you understand but I've been ordered to stay here. Just take what you need and repay him in kind at a later date."

"That's ( _too trusting,_ she thought) very kind of you. Where do I go?"

"Not far at all, just over the bridge to the Red Rocket gas station. Ta-ta for now, Miss."

"Um, yeah, bye Codsworth. Thanks."

* * *  
The Red Rocket did indeed have food. Mostly roasted molerat but Skyler wasn't fussy; she was famished. She was also exhausted and the proper bed - with both sheets _and_ a pillow was too tempting. She set a simple alarm, piling cans up by the doors and snuggled into the bed. It smelled good, a little man-musky but comforting. She slept solidly until dawn.  
* * * 

"Who's been sleeping in my bed, Dogmeat?"

Skyler leapt up, reaching for a non-existant weapon, the sheet falling from her head and shoulders to reveal the salvaged blue jumpsuit. Nate drew in a sharp breath, then lowered his laser musket. Dogmeat sniffed the intruder and just wagged his tail.

"Looks like my canine pal trusts you, trespasser," he said in a casual tone. His voice shifted very slightly lower, a little sinister as he asked "So who are you?"

"Oh, ahm, your Mr. Handy…Codswallop?" Skyler eyed the man's blue jumpsuit, still plain to see even under a mishmash of armour pieces.

"Codsworth."

"Yeah, he said you wouldn't mind sharing."

The tip of the rifle raised again but Dogmeat put his paws on the girl's lap and licked her face.

"Thanks, mutt, like I needed a wash. Listen, mister, I'm no raider. I was travelling with a caravan from the north. We got hit, I lost them, lost my weapon, hid in that Vault up there, needed clothing so I took this," she said, pinching the shoulder of the stretchy fabric. "When I climbed out I bumped into your funny-speaking Handybot and he sent me here."

The man scratched his stubbled chin and ran that hand through his dark brown hair, raising an eyebrow as he did so. "Look, kid,"

"I'm no kid," Skyler interrupted. "I'm almost twenty three."

"Look, _kid_ " he repeated. "If you need a place to stay, there's plenty of room up in Sanctuary. Come with me, I'm going there to meet a friend. I get a feeling he could use some help." He didn't wait for an answer, just dumped some junk in the corner and strode outside. A moment later, Skyler heard the squeak, whoosh and clank of an old suit of power armour opening to envelop its pilot.

The three of them set off up the road and over the bridge. Skyler had doubts about the state of that thing versus the weight of the walking tin can but it held fast. A small group of people were huddled around a pot on a campfire. Skyler held back whilst the guy had a long conversation with a man wearing a fancy waistcoat and a slightly familiar hat. She wandered down towards the river edge, spotting bloatflies in the distance and wishing that she had a gun.

"You girl," said an old woman's voice. "I see you. You weren't s'posed to be here, but here you are, changin' the way of things." 

Skyler slowly approached her. The old woman looked as if she might turn ghoul any moment. She was smiling though, her bloodshot eyes sparkling, her wrinkled hand trembling as it reached out to her. She let the wizened thing land on her shoulder. A small shock went through her and the old woman's eyes glazed over.

"You began so far away. You were stolen, twice, grown in a strange land. You're stronger than you know, kid. Follow the blue, all the way to the end."

Mama Murphy withdrew her hand. "I'm sorry kid, the rest is all for him. Until its yours."

Something about Skyler's face caught Marcie Long's eye. "Mama Murphy, you leave folks alone. How is anyone ever going to want to help _us_ if you keep peddling that nonsense in exchange for chems?"

"Actually," Skyler ventured,"she never even asked me for two caps to rub together."

"Oh. Well. _Don't._ she spat at Mama Murphy.

Skyler felt a tap on her shoulder and jumped. She ought to have heard the man approach but her mind was reeling from the strange old woman's words. No, not just the words themselves, an undercurrent that had shocked her as sure as a live wire.

"How ya doin', missy?"

She turned round to see a greaser in dungarees smiling at her.

"Shit! Man, you made me jump!"

The guy scratched his long sideburns and chuckled. "Hey. Name's Sturges, what can I call you?"

"Not 'Missy' ever again if you value your toolbox. Skyler. Before you ask, no I'm not out of that hole up there. I'm from a small place a few days north of here."

"Lookin' to find a new home?"

"Looking for work, actually. Food, clothes, a bed."

"Can you wield a hammer?"

"Any tool you can name."

"Well, I can name quite a few." Sturges grinned and handed her a red toolbox. "You can help our new General to start gettin' this place fixed up."

_I spent the next few days fixing roofs, building beds and setting up a water purifier. I tried my best to avoid planting crops. I've done more than enough farming in my life. Sturges turned out to be a solid guy, the kind I enjoyed sitting round the fire drinking beers with. The Longs were best avoided. That kind of grief can be infectious, bringing everyone down when you really need to stay alert. The old woman persuaded the new General to make her a chair. Turns out he was quite the craftsman. She sat and cooked, after that, or mended clothes or sorted good nails and screws from bent ones for Sturges._

_I liked it when General Nate was around. Something about the guy made me feel…safe. At home, even. So when Preston approached me on the third evening and asked if I could shoot straight and would I like to join the Minutemen, I couldn't say 'Yes!' fast enough._


	2. Abernathy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Skyler is getting settled in. She finds work and takes on her first big mission, alone.

_The General's old homestead was really coming along. Three of the buildings were now liveable, each with their own working sink, stove, raised beds with sheets and small veg plots out front. We saw less and less of the General, though he and Dogmeat would return with full packs and empty bellies from time to time._

_Trashcan Carla caught wind of the place from some balding caravan hand down at Bunker Hill and before long, she was the first trader to venture into this part of the 'wealth for almost a decade, well, at least according to old Codsworth._

_Colonel Garvey had the General running about all over. Seriously, I was wondering who's really in charge, here? Anyway, since I was now officially 'Private Skyler' (why bother creating a fuss over family names?) I had orders to follow._

A wisp of cool air woke Skyler up. She yawned and stretched slowly, enjoying the only slightly lumpy mattress, legs tangled in a coverlet they weren't recently used to. Her foot knocked the sniper rifle that the General himself had modified for her. Preston had offered her a laser musket but she'd practically talked his ear off about how slow, loud and bright they were that left the poor man caressing his own as if to soothe its hurt feelings. The General had laughed and disappeared, only to reappear a moment later with a battered combat rifle.

The weapon that she now picked up off the floor gleamed. It had been transformed so as to be almost unrecognisable from the scavenged piece it had started out as. Skyler had the feeling that it needed a name (all the best weapons have a name, after all) but she just couldn't find the right one. 

"Private? Breakfast is served."

Preston's head disappeared as quickly as it had been stuck round the corner and Skyler heard him call the rest of the settlement one by one, even Dogmeat. She pulled her boots on and wandered over toward the smell of food coming from the outdoor communal campfire. Jun was stirring a large pot of razorgrain porridge and as he saw Skyler approach, dolloped a generous portion into a pretty ceramic bowl, handing it to her with a weak but genuine smile.

"Thanks. Smells good, what's in it?"

"Sugarbombs and Fancy Lads."

From just inside the door came a choked laugh and some mumble about toothrot. Skyler was halfway through her meal when the General walked out, handing his empty bowl to Jun and popping a weathered fedora on her head with a approving nod. Dogmeat followed close behind.

After breakfast, the General handed out orders. Preston was to follow him, Skyler was to check on a nearby farm and Dogmeat was to be a good boy and stay.

The Private adjusted her new hat, which was a near perfect fit, slung her rifle on her back and headed across the bridge, taking the most direct route. On the way she found a few supplies: a stimpak, a box of wrong calibre ammo and some thistles. Just over the hill she caught the large, makeshift shack built around an old pylon. A brahmin bellowed hello and a cat mewed a greeting but no people could be seen. Skyler readied her gun, straining her ears for any hint of footsteps, expecting to see bodies as she rounded the corner.

The wind direction shifted slightly, carrying the sound of lowered voices and…tools breaking earth. She knew those sounds intimately and put away her unnamed rifle. A woman walked toward her.

"Ain't here for trouble, I hope? We've got things to trade, if you're interested?"

"No ma'am, in fact I'm here to see if you need anything. Private Skyler, currently the only Minutewoman. I take it you've met General Woods?"

"Oh good. Yes, we did."

At this point, a man joined the woman's side and having heard her introduction, held out his hand. "Blake Abernathy. This is my wife, Connie. Forget to introduce yourself and jump straight to the sales pitch, dear?"

Skyler smiled. "It's alright. Actually, we could use a few supplies in Sanctuary. Looking to set up a regular arrangement, in fact."

A third person walked around the corner, a young woman with short hair, her arms full of melons. Her face lit up. "I could do that! Its only over the hill and across the old bridge."

"No!" said her parents in unison. Her father took some melons from her and put them into a wooden basket. "Look, Lucy, after what happened, your mother and I don't want you out of our sight."

Skyler had had the self same conversation with her own parents.

"Mom, look, I…I could help! You won't let me join the Minutemen so at least I could be a provisioner. The old girl could still manage a short trek like that and we'd always be travelling in the daylight." 

She decided to side with the girl. "Mr. and Mrs. Abernathy, it really is much safer now. We'll have settlers arriving soon to man watch towers and the General has already set up turrets and other defences, both at Sanctuary and at the Red Rocket. He'll do the same for you but we need your help in return. We're willing to buy a fair portion of your crop as it becomes ripe for harvest. Look, I was a farmer's daughter too and I know just how she feels."

Lucy Abernathy was now beaming hopefully at Skyler, who must only be five or six years older than she.

Connie pulled a sour expression but Blake Abernathy sighed and gave a little nod. "Did the General manage to get the locket? We're not making any deals unless he at least tries to get that back."

"If there's no locket or no proof of having gone to Olivia, then no deals. I don't care if we are neighbours," Connie added sourly.

Skyler squared her shoulders. Nate had mentioned something about a locket at the old satellite station being on his very long, green to-do list.

"I'll get it," she said spontaneously.

"You will? It's dangerous, girl," Connie warned, with just a hint of motherly concern.

"I'm not a girl anymore, ma'am."

* * *  
She could see one of them walking up on the metal ramp. Two shots and the sackhead was down. A nasty looking dog bounded toward her, blood already mingled with its flying spittle. One shot. That's dinner taken care of.

The sun had started setting already, balanced on the bare treetops like an orange kickball. A shadow by the window gave the second one away. Pop. It always helped her to imagine exploding melons. Headshots still made her a little queasy.

The blue door opened quite easily for her expert fingers. A loose roll of hair dropped down her cheek now that it was minus a bobby pin. She crouched, breathing softly. A terminal - no chance. A locked door - no keyhole, damn. Voices. Skyler paused at a corner, whipping her head round to take stock of her surroundings. She risked peeking through a paneless window. Two shots managed to leave her gun and find their target, but they didn't take him down. Angry shouts, gunfire, voices coming up stairs…to the left! She whipped round and took the raider down in one hit then ran down the corridor, ducking into a doorway. Toilets. Medkit on the wall, "Score!" she thought to herself. Back down the corridor and into a main room. Lots of shadows, plenty of cover. She placed a frag mine at a doorway and quickly retreated to cover.

 **Bang!** A woman cried out and then there was a hail of bullets. "Oh brahminshit. A minigun," Skyler mumbled. She ducked extra low and peeped around the corner. The pigtailed raider was looking the wrong way so she padfooted it behind a console and took a shot. Blood sprayed from the raider's arm and her grip on the multibarrelled monstrosity weakened. She fired as Skyler legged it to better cover but her aim was poor. Skyler reloaded and took out her legs, finishing her just as an injured but burly raider stomped through the door, firing a pipe pistol wildly into the room. One of the bullets went through Skyler's shoulder, so she gritted her teeth and hunkered down to shove a stimpak needle into the wound.

Even as the bullet hole was still miraculously weaving together, she fired three more shots, taking the last of them out. She began rooting around for the locket, pocketing anything useful and light as she went. Skyler wasn't particularly strong. She was build for speed and agility, though a caravan guard once commented that it was no wonder she couldn't carry much on her back when nature had so generously encumbered her at the front. The guard had enjoyed his beer as a shower after that remark.

Double blue doors enticed her last bobby pin from her hair. It opened with a click and she smelled before she saw the psychedelic pattern of flammable liquid on the floor. She stepped back, drew her .10mm and fired one shot. Roaches got roasted and she picked the last few off with ease. Quickly peeling the meat from the shells and wrapping it in old newspaper, she poked around. She even risked a few rads to look inside a med kit, finding Radaway and a Stimpak but still no locket. None of the raiders, nor the skeletons wore it and she must have done a full circuit of the place before noticing the red toolbox near the radroach nest. She scrabbled around for a recently located box of bobby pins and picked the lock. There it lay, a tarnished silver locket. Inside, a drawing of a young girl, a little like Lucy but with Blake Abernathy's nose. Skyler snapped it shut and placed it safely in her pack.

_The Abernathys were all over me after that as if I were a long lost cousin or something. They let Lulu become a provisioner, which meant a steady supply of melons and tatoes and a few cheap-ish goods. They even let her stay over one night to celebrate some old holiday that the General insisted on observing._

_I still can't get over the fact that he's 244 years old. I don't really get him. Maybe it's like some kind of temporal culture shock - hey, I read, I can use big old words! - or perhaps… well. Sometimes he avoids looking at me, other times I catch him staring. I'm sure he doesn't fancy me or anything like that. He looks, well, kind of far away._

_So, I finally got rid of the clingy blue number. Connie had an old Minuteman uniform. I made some adjustments and it fits perfectly now. I agree with Blake, I like a bit of room to breathe in my clothes, too. Along with the uniform, hat and rifle, you are now looking at **Corporal** Skyler Woods. The General seemed glad that I could handle myself and that he got to tick a mission off his list on that Pip-boy of his. I'd sure hate to have to lug one of those things around._


	3. Starlight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Skyler helps to claim a settlement and gets some rare alone-time with the General. *woof* And Dogmeat.

_This is what we do. Roam around, carry out pest control, pick up the garbage, stop the garbage from rolling back in. We build floors, walls, roofs and doors. We fix up water pumps, plant crops, set defences. What? You think the General does that all alone?_

_No. Don't get me wrong, the General is not afraid to get his hands dirty, nor to go out of his way to make life easier for the rest of us. That's not why people flock to the beacons but it is why they stay. It's why the Minutemen are growing again. Go in any settlement and you'll find at least one or two of us, maybe not obvious at first. Maybe it's that woman over there, scrabbling in the dirt picking out carrot slugs. It could be the trader who just gave you a good deal._

_Some of us volunteer ourselves on an as-and-when basis. Some of us dedicate ourselves to the cause full time and keep the whole network linked together and functioning. Who do you think passes on the news to Lieutenant Saxon at the Castle radio station? Not that we'd even reclaimed Fort Independence when Starlight City began._

_I remember, that was one of the few times that I spent time with General Jonathan 'Nate' Woods. I had no idea how precious that time really was._

Skyler heard the shouting over the ridge and the General and his dog hunkered down, creeping closer very slowly. She counted three voices, maybe a fourth, moaning quietly. Nate silently ordered Skyler to hold position as he stood up, weapon lowered, advancing with caution. She caught snatches of the conversation, heard him enter the diner and talk with the woman in there. She heard the muttered curses between the two chem pushers then a moment of silence in which she felt the tension crank up a notch, noticed Dogmeat creeping round and knew what was going down.

The first shot knocked the guy to the ground. Skyler's shot shattered his accomplice's shoulder badly and Dogmeat, snarling, closed his jaws around her throat and finished her. The woman in the diner cursed Wolfgang's name and her shot ruined his kneecap. The General put an end to him once and for all. As suddenly as it had begun, it was over.

Dogmeat licked Skyler's hand and they walked up to the building, waiting just outside the door.

"…rotting in hell. If you need anything…"

"No problem, ma'am."

"Call me Trudy. General of the Minutemen, you say? Well, let's hope you lot are back for good. Scum like that," she pointed to the bodies outside with the clip she was changing, "need puttin' in their place. Honest tradin's hard enough work as it is without them ruinin' our families."

A kid, probably just seventeen or so, sat looking ill and rocking in a corner whilst the General did some bartering for useful supplies, barely any of it for himself, mostly junk that was useful to recycle into defences, generators, purifiers, seeds. The staples of any settlement that had a hope in glowing hell of surviving.

"You know," Trudy added as she stashed the caps away, "if you're lookin' fer a place to build on, there's an old drive-in just behind us. Full o' molerats right now but if the nests got cleared, might be promising. Real close. Trashcan Carla comes through here too, so there's your good trade route and all the supplies your caps can buy, right on your doorstep.

The General liked the idea so they took a walk. The screen was a big, fortified wall already. You could get up top. There was evidence that someone had tried to make a go of it there and failed. The Commonwealth is littered with such unfinished tales. They followed Dogmeat's nose, skirting around the edge of the site and ran up the collapsed roof of what Nate called the 'projector tower'. It didn't take long for the pig-sized, practically blind molerats to follow their vibrations and burst up at the foot of the slope, only to be picked off easily. Skyler sniped a couple that had burst up farther away whilst the General disarmed a bottlecap mine….and then there was silence.

The day was getting on. Skyler set a few small fires going in the newest exit holes to smoke out any remaining molerats but nothing stirred. By evening, Nate had made up two decent beds, cleared the 'refreshment stand' as he called that bit of building with windows. He'd knocked together a simple turret too, whilst Skyler built a campfire to cook over and butchered the molerat bodies. Dogmeat sat on an old bit of rug, happily chewing the bones.

The General finally wandered over and flopped down onto a chair. He looked over at the Corporal.

"Good job today, um, Sky."

"Skyler, sir but call me 'Sky' if you want."

"I will, if you just call me Nate." He looked down, thoughtfully, fidgeting with an old dollar note, folding it into an aircraft shape, unfolding it, folding it again into what looked like a shirt.

"Neat trick. Show me how?" asked Skyler, chewing perfectly roasted 'rat.

Nate unfolded his creation and showed her slowly, step by step. He undid his example and handed the creased paper rectangle it to Skyler who made a few mistakes but eventually, proudly, held up a little green shirt with a grin.

Nate had a strange look in his eye as he stared softly at Skyler.

"Hey..um..just to be clear, I'm not up for…" she said as her grin faded.

"No. God, sorry. No, it's not that. It's just that you look like…like.."

His words were catching in his throat, the firelight dancing on unshed tears.

"Like your wife," Skyler finished for him. His face changed, surprise and shock and maybe a little anger there but with no escape exit open for expression. "I saw her, sir. I was in one eleven briefly, hiding from raiders. That place gave me the creeps but when I saw her….I don't know why but I couldn't look away for some time. I saw myself there. Crazy, I know. I mean, I was born and raised in the Wasteland, some way north of Sanctuary and a couple centuries late. Hey, maybe we're real distantly related?"

Nate sighed and opened a beer. "Very distantly…maybe. Both Nora - Eleanora - and I were only children." He chugged his beer back whilst staring into the fire with a haunted look. Skyler had never seen this delicate, traumatised side of him. He was a master at covering it up with confidence and bravado, humour even at times. "We have an only child, too. He was kidnapped. I'm gonna find that bald bastard and get my son back."

Skyler was silent for a moment, then softly asked, "What's his name?"

"Shaun. Shaun Brian Woods. My baby."

"He's…he's an infant?"

"Just over six months old when we…we were…" Nate couldn't contain it any longer. He wept, quietly at first then vocally. He screamed up to the stars. Skyler didn't let rank or lack of familiarity hold her back from following her compassionate instincts. She just held him as he released his grief and he let her, a prop for his sobbing frame, her warmth and soft solidity a balm for his raw heart, nothing more, nothing less. Dogmeat leaned warmly against both.

_So Nate opened up. He apologised in the morning and gave me this lipstick he found in an old suitcase. Not exactly my color (too pale) but I'll never trade that one away. Call me sentimental. We've parted ways since then and Starlight is fast becoming a real city._

_I think he's avoiding me. Not because he got emotional, no. It's an unspoken rule that you let that kind of emotional garbage out among friends and they never throw it back at you. Life is tougher than a mirelurk's shell. You gotta be tougher still but if you let the inside of you stop being a bit soft…well, may as well throw in your lot with the raiders._

_He's avoiding me because I look way too much like her. She's buried now, out back of their old house. He can't see her frozen face any more but I still see that glassy, faraway look on his face when he notices me. I feel some kind of connection but it isn't a romantic one, more like seeing an old friend again. I don't know. It's weird. Mama Murphy just smiles knowingly at me and nods her head but says nothing. I'd be tempted to give her a shot of Med-X but Colonel Garvey would go 'Guai shit at me. So, I respect the guy and he makes me feel safe but I admit, he also weirds me out a bit. World went to shit an' its full of weird anyhow so I can deal. I'm cool, Daddy-o. I'm cool. Starlight, star bright, first star I see tonight. Wish I may, wish I might, have this wish I wish tonight....heh.  
Only works when you know what to wish for. Wish I could bring them back. _


	4. Hangmans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Corporal Skyler Woods is on patrol with a group of Minutemen, heading towards Hangman's Alley just a day or so behind the General.Travel is never without its risks.

_The General moves on ahead and we follow in the wake that he cuts across the Commonwealth. That's just how he rolls. It was barely a day after he and Dogmeat had cleared out a handful of raiders from an alley that a small patrol of Minutemen came through, myself included._

_The shacks were still up, the stench of sackhead psychos lingering. Nate, I mean, General Woods, had left a few touches. A water pump and bucket, the old mattresses burned in a corner and fresher beds placed in the high shack. A few supplies in the workshop cupboard and someone whistling, digging in the dirt behind the posts._

_I'm used to this now, this nomadic life. "Stay movin', stay livin'," my Pa used to say. He'd been a Minuteman 'til his knee gave out, then he went back to being just a farmer. He'd not stay still, not even on his bunk, for longer than he had to. Sometimes, though, you just can't move fast enough._

"Down!" whispered Miller at the tunnel entrance. "Snipergal, you're up!" It would have been nice for the Lance Corporal to have used her actual name but she wasn't going to argue, not with the flashing red light reflecting off his patrolman shades and the curved tunnel walls. There wasn't time. Skyler jumped onto a car bonnet, crouched and aimed. 

It always happened when she put the scope to her eye. It wasn't like being on Jet, the world going soft as dough round the edges whilst every movement was slowed. No, this was more like shifting gear, getting painfully sharp clarity whilst that suspended breath held time in its grasp, the crosshair alighting as deftly as a bird landing on a swaying branch. If the breath was released in unison with the slight pressure on the trigger, the bullet would find its mark.

Skyler took two seconds to take stock of her surroundings. Two supermutants advancing, one of them a suicider; an enclosed space full of potential combustibles. Damned rookies bunched up too close. She yelled 'Hold back!' and aimed for the bomber's head. If she hit the nuke, they were all dead. If she hit an engine, they were probably all dead. Her only option was to stop the flasher and then get his buddy before the ugly greenskin could pick the mini nuke up himself.

Her heart was hammering away, adrenaline pumping. 'Good,' she thought fleetingly. She was a better aim under pressure. The lumbering hulk was getting too close. It was now or never.

Melon smashing time.

The supermutant's relatively small head exploded in his follower's face, slowing the second down momentarily. The Minutemen were already backing up down the passage, taking cover as they heard the eerie bellowing howl of a mutant hound from the far end. Down her scope, Skyler could see another two mutants enter, guns blazing but too far away to hit their mark. She waited a moment until they were well inside but not before the nearest mutie had emerged. She aimed for a tank on the side of a truck in the tunnel whilst running backwards toward cover. 

KaBooom! That's what they write in the comic books, at least.

Lance Corporal Miller and the two rookies cautiously emerged from their cover, incredulous relief written all over their faces. From inside the tunnel, a voice shakily yelled "What the Fucknuke…?" Skyler didn't hear it, though. Her ears were still ringing. It took an hour for the tinnitus to clear up. She followed her leader (who had been a Private before the Quincy incident) to a trader hidden in an alcove in the middle of the tunnel. Miller went inside, followed by Skyler who did her best to follow the conversation.

The trader was still shaking, cowering slightly. "Ain't lookin' fer trouble here, jus' lookin' fer business."

Miller squared his shoulders. "You sell to raiders?"

"Well, yeah, whaddya think? Muties don't buy nutt'n an' the Big Green Jewellers ain't interested in my sh..my stock."

The tall, lean Minuteman put an elbow on the top of his table. "Just so you know, the Minutemen are now patrolling this area, based out of Hangman's Alley. If we hear that you've been selling to raiders, we'll be forced to consider you one of them. Understood?

"Look," said the emaciated guy. "I'm just tryin' to stay mutual, here."

Miller was glowering at the guy and about to put a little too much pressure on him, so Skyler stepped in.

"I think you mean 'neutral'. Yeah, I get it. You just want to stay alive and earn some caps so you can carry on, carrying on. How about a better deal. If you stop supplying raiders and supply the Minutemen and our settlers instead, maybe one day we'll put you up in better than this, this damp hole in the wall. Sound good?"

The trader cast a wary eye at Miller, then back at Skyler who was pulling a roll of caps out of her pocket. Caps wrapped carefully in an old Gumdrops wrapper. He grinned, showing a few yellowed teeth. 

"Twenty caps and a hunk of fresh Mirelurk. What have you got?" she asked. 

They spent a while bartering until the trader agreed a standing discount ("We saved your life after all, merch") and she came away with a razorgrain, some ammo and a little oil. No cosmetics this time, so she'd be making her own eyeliner again.

* * *  
The patrol walked past the locked entrance. The General had ordered the two bodies to be left alone. He didn't want to draw too much attention to the place by changing the outside. May as well put up a neon sign, he'd said. The group turned the corner into the alleyway, entering through the red door. A third entrance that led onto a higher, adjacent street remained chained.

The tiny seed of a settlement currently had but one occupant who was currently kneeling on the ground, back turned and whistling. The man heard footsteps and the unchanging _chuggachuggachugga_ of an unconcerned turret, so he got to his feet in a leisurely fashion, wiping dirt from his hands with an old dishrag, careful not to touch his rolled-up shirtsleeves or the elegant waistcoat that sat over it.

"Colonel Garvey, Sir." Miller gave a sloppy salute. 

"Lance Corporal. Trouble in the tunnel? Garvey asked, his gaze starting on Miller but ending on Skyler. 

"Our gal did us proud, Sir," Miller smirked and actually dared a discreet little spank on Skyler's behind.

"That's _Corporal_ Woods to you, Lance Corporal Miller…sir," Skyler reminded him through a forced smile.

He may have thought his Colonel wouldn't notice but Preston had an unnerving ability to read people. He would never ignore his innate talent again, not after Quincy…

"Miller. Glen, wasn't it?" Preston's brown eyes bored into Miller's grey ones.

"No, Glyn, sir."

The other two minutemen waited patiently behind him.

"Glyn. Stay behind and tend to these crops. I'll carry on up to Sanctuary with the patrol, except you, Skyler."

She had a sudden sinking feeling that she'd be left behind with that asshole, scrabbling around in dirt for the foreseeable. Her face gave her away and Preston barely stifled a chuckle.

"Corporal Woods is to meet the General in Diamond City. He specifically requested your sharpshooting skills for his current mission. Alright, at ease, folks. Get a meal and some rest. We leave at first light."

The other two pulled up chairs, drew bottles from their backpacks and Skyler roasted some radstag, whilst Preston pulled Miller aside. He lowered his voice and though Skyler made a show of concentrating on her task, she did not fail to overhear the pertinent bits.

"…about _respect_ , Miller. I hear another report or catch you acting disrespectfully to anyone, you get demoted. Our rank hierarchy may not be forged in steel like the Brotherhood but it _is_ there for a purpose. Besides, if you try that on Skyler again, I will not be held responsible. Neither will I stop her. Understood?"

"Yessir."

_One thing you have to understand about the Minutemen, well, aside from the fact that we're not all men. Some of us are a different gender. We're a whole. Not like a family, nor quite like a group of friends. We stand united beneath the rifle, the lightning and the three stars: Liberty, Goodness and Truth. We come together when we are needed. We are responsible for our own and each other's behaviour._

_My Pa taught me all this when I was knee high to a brahmin. What we remember of the past has been handed down through the generations or reclaimed piecemeal from old, tattered books. Like Ma said, every time we had a real good harvest: 'Babies and shit come out neighbours but look what shit can become!'_


	5. Diamond

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Skyler visits Diamond City for the first time in her life but meets a familiar face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Extra long chapter!

_The thing about following in someone's footsteps is that you get to notice all the imprints they leave behind. Bars, guard stations, fields, markets; wherever people gather, those impressions ripple out, farther and farther until they reach the edges. Unlike water though, the ripples don't get smaller, they get bigger, less cohesive. What was that game? Oh yeah, Chinese Whispers._

_So every time I get close to a non-threatening populated place, I hear about the man in blue. 'Seven feet tall, had to chip his way out of an ice block with nothing but a pen, he can go invisible at will and leap over a radscorpion in a single bound, without getting stung in the meatsack'. You know, shit like that. Some deny he even exists or that he is actually a whole Vault's worth of men out there, sneaking around, all bearing the same name. The rumors get wilder as the booze and chems get stronger._

_They're all looking at a distorted, after-vision of him, not seeing the growing wedge of supporters, companions, settlers-in-arms and the occasional oddity following in his wake, doing a large portion of the work. Don't get me wrong, I admire the man. He does a helluva job with very little. He can make just about anything from all manner of junk and he knows how to survive. I hate the distorted reflection of him, is all. Really doesn't do him justice._

"Yeah, right over my shoulder!"

The two Diamond City guards stood almost back to back at the corner of the Wall.

"Your right shoulder?"

"No, my left, dumbass. I said it went right over my shoulder, felt it graze the pad, look! There! That line, you can see it goin' across."

"It's covered in scuffs. Which one d'you mean?"

"Never mind. Anyhow, the bullet lands right in the mutie's lughole an' down he goes like a sack o' melons. Thud! Then the Vault Dweller just swans up to the bodies, grabs everythin' worth a cap then goes an' sticks his hand up the meatbag an' pulls out a box of ammo. 'Not my calibre' he goes. He looks around an' sees my piece an' says, 'Here. Looks like you could use these,' an' pitches 'em over. I catch 'em an' almost drop the friggin' box 'cause its still…you know…"

"Covered in guts. Nice."

"Yeah. Then he says, which way.."

A woman's voice interrupts. "Diamond City up this way, officers?"

Both men look over. The pin-up figure underneath the armour, the smooth black hair flowing down from the metal helm on her head, the deep red lips and slightly smudged, kohl-lined, blue eyes stop both men dead for a moment. The yakker is the first to recover, jabbering a little and pointing directions.

She just smiled a little, nodded and drifted on in. A loose cobble caught her heel and she stumbled, rather ruining the effect but the D.C. guards mentally edited out the near pratfall and followed her swaying pack until it was out of sight.

"Whew!" whistled the loud one. 

"Careful. Doll that cute…?"

"Could be a synth," they said in unison. 

* * *

"Danny? Danny Sullivan, is that you?" Skyler unabashedly held the Captain's face in her hands.

He blushed easily and replied "Bluesky?" 

"Oh, for ferals' sakes, don't bring that name back from the dead. It's Corporal Skyler Woods, thankyou very much."

"You're with the Minutemen, then. If you'd have shown up a few days ago I woulda said that I thought they'd imploded but…ah, your General's here. Arrived yesterday."

"Yeah, well, they're back thanks to him an' Colonel Garvey."

"Preston Garvey's still going? Well, Bl..I mean, Skyler, that's good to hear. So…are you…um…?"

"Going through that gate? I hope so. Unless you meant 'accompanied'? No. Like I told you what, eight years ago, not interested."

"We were only kids, though."

"Sixteen is old enough these days….unless D.C. runs by the old rules?"

"Yes. It does," Danny sighed. "So, any chance of a drink when I get off..?"

"You won't be getting off but I'll sit 'n' have a beer with you, man."

He huffed out a disappointed laugh. "Eight pm. At the Dugout, ground floor, you won't miss it. Tell Bobrov 'Dannyboy sent you eggs'."

Skyler's face screwed up in puzzlement just as a duet of mooing sounded from behind, along with a travel-frazzled trader muttering 'Just get on with it.' 

"It's…don't ask. He'll understand. Head on up…Corporal."

She adjusted her rifle strap to sit more comfortably alongside the makeshift backpack of trade goods and headed up the stairs. The darkened corridor suddenly opened out into the light. Diamond City, finally! Skyler had wanted to come here ever since she was a girl. She'd met Danny in his youth as he travelled with his mother's caravan as a guard. They were forced to stay at Skyler's parent's farm for two days in the winter of 2277 when the vicious rad storm struck. They visited the following summer but then the mother sustained an injury that forced her to give up the trader's life. They rented squat space by the out field until between them, they managed to afford a house. Little more than a divided room but a place in D.C. was like a dream come true for Danny. He'd never forgotten the blue sky-eyed girl.

It was still early, most of the shops on the cusp of opening. She ignored the Mister Handy and headed straight for the noodles. 

"Nan-ni shimasu ka?"

"Um…"

"Nan-ni shimasu ka?"

"He's asking ya 'What'll it be?', doll. Since ol' Takahashi here only does noodles, all you need reply is 'Yes'. "

Skyler turned her head and jerked back. She would have fallen off her stool had an arm in a yellow trenchcoat sleeve not shot out and steadied her, then withdrew, reaching out instead to take a steaming bowl.

"Make that two, Taka." A skeletal metal hand dropped caps on the bar top. "Consider it an apology for the shock and the unsolicited contact."

"The…what?"

"Sorry I grabbed at you, dollface but you woulda fallen on your assets. Can we start over? Nick Valentine, Synth Detective."

Takahashi plonked a second steaming bowl of noodles down, which Skyler took distractedly.

"You're a synth."

"You're a human. There, now we've got that out of the way."

"You..I've never seen one like you before. Had no idea they made clockwork dicks…"

"Hey, now! The correct term is 'Synth Detective', jackass. And they don't make 'em like me anymore."

"Did I actually just offend you?"

"You mean have I got feelings? Damn straight. What kind of second-rate private investigator would I be without emotions. Even if they are synthetic…" Nick added in a mumble.

Skyler did not know what to say. A synth in Diamond city. A synth with feelings…and apparently an appetite for noodles. She didn't even know they _could_ eat. She swore she could hear little motors whir as he chewed, with his head slightly tipped toward the side that had a complete cheek.

The marketplace started to wake up. Locks unlocked, doors opened, voices and other noises joined the marketplace chorus. Skyler finished her second bowl and held up the Nuka bottle until the very last cherry droplet fell onto her tongue. She looked around and still saw no sign of Nate, the General, so she looked around for the general trader.

"Saw you talking to the synth. We don't serve synths here." Myrna rudely carried on writing inventory.

Skyler frowned. "I'm no synth. Would a synth be after Cherrybomb lipstick?"

"Well, maybe, no… but I still don't trust you."

"Look, I'm tryin' ta do business with you here lady but if you won't serve a Minuteman.." she turned as if to walk off but as she had hoped, was called back."

"Just a second, are you really human?"

"Born, bred an' bled."

"Alright. I'm watching you with my…my very good eyes."

Myrna gave Skyler a reasonable price for her junk and sold her the lipstick she'd been hoping to find again after three years, some pristine eye makeup (though it needed a little not-so-gentle encouragement out of the box) and materials to make an improvement to her rifle. Arturo spotted the weapon slung across her back and enticed her over.

"Now that is a well-loved rifle. Let me see now….45 calibre? Got plenty of ammunition in stock, maybe a modification kit here too…ah, now I sold that one already. Arturo Rodriguez, a pleasure to meet you, Corporal." Arturo beamed a genuine smile toward her.

Skyler stood in front of his stall. "You know of me?"

"Well, yes ma'am. Only yesterday your General was singing your praises. Good for a promotion, by the sounds of it."

From the room behind came the cry of "Dad!" 

Arturo frowned. "Excuse me just one moment."

He turned to pop his head through the door behind him. "Nina, why aren't you in school?"

"I forgot my notebook and pencil and now I can't find them."

"You forgot that whole conversation we had yesterday about putting things back where you got them from?" He sighed. "I trod on something under the rug this morning. Look there."

"Found them! Oh but my pencil is broken!"

Skyler couldn't help but overhear and happened to have a couple of long pencils on her. "Here, she can have this one." 

The girl peeped through the door and Arturo took it with thanks and passed the pencil to his daughter. "Now scat before Mr. Zwicky has to call me over for another chat!"

The weapons vendor turned back to his customer. "Thankyou for that. Honestly, that girl.Well, let me throw in a few extra rounds for saving the day, there."

"No problem, really."

Skyler bought her ammo and a few parts. She looked around but there was still no sign of Nate, so she took her time fine-tuning her weapon at the communal blue workbench and fitted a better sight.

She wandered around the city for the next few hours, checking back at the noodle stand every so often but there was still no sign of him. When the main market closed, she finally headed over to the Dugout. Danny hadn't come off his shift yet but she decided to order a beer anyway.

"Well greetings to lovely lady! What can I do you for?" said Vadim in his thick, Slavic accent.

"One beer and some news, please."

"You want news, you see Piper."

Skyler hadn't met this Piper yet, probably because she was hidden away in her office, furiously typing all day.

"I just wanna know if General Woods is staying here. The Vault Dweller?"

Yefim heard and wandered over. "Yes, he's here. Rented a room and hasn't come out since this morning."

"That was hours ago. Did he look alright?"

Vadim piped up. "Well, he only had one whiskey and was far from drunk, I should know. Said he just needed a rest."

Skyler began to feel concerned."Which room?"

"Two but our customers' privacy…" 

She'd already stormed past Yefim and was knocking on the door. "General, Sir?" Nothing. She called louder. "General, can you hear me?" Still nothing. She demanded that Vadim pass her a glass, which he tossed and she caught. Putting it to the door and blocking her other ear, she listened. What she heard just solidified her concern. A terrible wheezing sound and a few weak coughs was enough for Skyler to stand back and shout orders. "Open this door, fetch a doctor!"

Danny had just wandered in to hear this and let the brothers know he'd get Doc Sun. Yefim unlocked the door and Skyler rushed in to find that the General had collapsed on the floor and was delerious with a raging fever and having trouble breathing.

A few moments later, Doctor Sun rushed in complaining about having been disturbed but when he saw Skyler wiping the General's brow with a cold cloth and the pallor of his face, he got to work. Yefim closed the doors and Vadim did a good job of distracting his customers and turning up the radio a notch.

Inside room two, the doctor examined his patient.

"Hmm, badly healed bullet wound, nasty infection. The bullet must have passed through some contaminant. I'll give him an antibiotic shot and two stimpaks. I'm going to assume you can pay for this as I don't usually let patients hold emergency tabs."

"Don't worry, Doc, you'll get fair payment. We're Minutemen, remember?"

"Yes, well, that holds a little less weight these days. General Woods, Jonathan, can you hear me?"

Nate stirred and Skyler felt the fever retreat even as she held him. After a few moments, the doctor suggested they get him back on the bed. Nate recovered enough to prop himself on an elbow and chug back two cans of purified in quick succession.

"No food for an hour but you must eat well after that, alright? Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm officially _off duty_ now. You can settle up tomorrow." Nate croaked his thanks as the doc left the room.

Skyler called to Danny. "Stay with him for a bit, I just need to run and let someone know what happened."

"Sure, will do."

She ran out of the Inn, almost bumping into Nina who was chasing a boy round the bases. "Oh, hi lady, thanks for the p…" she called but Skyler had already vanished into the alleyway. She knocked on the red door.

"Come in," came the synth's voice. "Took you long enough, time is of the essence…oh, it's you, Miss Jackass."

"Valentine, the General took ill. He's on the mend now but he collapsed in his room. Doc sorted his fever."

"Damn. Skinny an' his poisoned slugs strike for the last time."

Skyler looked confused.

Nick shugged forward over his desk and spoke in a hushed voice. "The Triggerman big boss your General helped take down yesterday, Skinny Malone, had a nasty game of Russian Roulette he like to play. He'd take a few slugs and dip 'em in some glowing crap, then load 'em randomly. If a target got hit but didn't go down an' was unlucky enough to have caught the glowing slug, he'd die of a nasty infection two days later. Skinny's curse, they called it. Well, no more. Glad you caught it in time, doll. Could've been goodnight, sweetheart."

"He's not my sweetheart."

Valentine studied her carefully for a moment. "Maybe not, but you two are close."

"He's just my boss," she said, a little loudly.

"If you say so but could you say so a little more quietly? Ellie's already asleep up there. Now, what say you bring him to me tomorrow when he's strong enough to at least have a little chat, then I can open the file on his case."

"Sure. Tomorrow then, Synth Dick."

As Skyler closed the door, Nick mumbled "Jackass."

_  
The following afternoon, I brought the General in. He was much stronger but not quite fully recovered yet. I sat back in the corner as he told Nick the full story. Having been down there myself, plus having a pretty vivid imagination, I could see the whole thing unfold as he told it. It was creepy, gave me the shivers but at the same time a decision made itself within me. I had to help. I was part of this, deeper in than I knew._

_I ended up being the one to pick the lock on Kellogg's front door and helped search the place. Nate went off to fetch Dogmeat from wherever the mutt was hanging out and we followed the trail with the detective right up to the old army base. The General wanted to go in quietly, so the mutt and I were ordered to wait at the Red Rocket nearby. I wasn't about to sit and knit so we sniffed around the old blood bank whilst they were doing the heavy stuff._

_Sometimes, what goes on in the background, the hidden workings of the world, can't stay unnoticed. The Institute could have locked themselves completely away, utterly distanced themselves from the wasteland above but they just couldn't help themselves. They had to interfere. Life tends to balance itself out at any cost. The cost of them pushing out was just a natural return push in. And boy, did the General do his best to push back hard._


	6. Fort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a short distance away from the main action, Private Skyler carries out her duties with the littlest Minuteman.

_I've never really been a dog person. I mean, most of the mutts in the Commonwealth are savage, viscious beasts that roam around in packs. Very much like raiders. The few that are able to be trained are, for the most part…well, dog ugly. It is a rare breed these days that still has fur, let alone a friendly demeanour. Now cats…well, they just seemed to shrug off the radiation and carry on being efficient small pest controllers, a warm little body on your sleeping roll, a purring salve to ease your tension._

_Dogmeat, however, is the exception. When the General left him with me I knew that he wasn't asking me to look after the mutt but rather ordering the only canine member of the Minutemen to watch my back. Not that either of us minded me running my fingers through his thick, softly coarse coat, nor the way he shared the very end of the sleeping bag I threw down._

_Yeah, we get on alright, my fellow soldier and I._

They still hadn't returned. Skyler was getting anxious, as was Dogmeat judging by his increased pacing. They'd been round the old bloodbank twice and the only things remaining were too rank or too heavy to drag out. She sat on the roof, having made a cosy little sniper's nest, making one more visual sweep through her scope. The sun was almost down, spraying the clouds in soft velvet claret and faded fern flower purple. A distant rumbling became audible. Dogmeat had pricked his ears up five minutes ago but Skyler had been too busy cloud-gazing.

The rumbling volume increased and the sunlight caught a moving shape amongst the clouds. She stared through her scope, drawing a sudden breath at the sight of the Prydwen's arrival, coinciding with a steel door on the roof of Fort Hagen creaking open and two figures stepping out, both as equally drawn to the spectacle of the arrival of the Brotherhood of Steel as she.

Their message blared out loudly, broadcasting their carefully worded intentions. Skyler imagined every Minuteman in the Commonwealth tensing, not that they were many in number yet. The ominous dirigible glided slowly overhead, surrounded by a swarm of vertibirds. Skyler had heard tales of the Brotherhood from the long-haul traders who went to the Capital Wasteland. 

"Well, this'll complicate matters," she said under her breath.

A short while later, the General and the Detective emerged from the Fort, packs bulging. Nate's eyes bore dark circles and he was in a very withdrawn mood and Dogmeat practically glued himself to Nate's side. Skyler started lightheartedly rattling her tongue but Nick stepped up and put his undamaged hand on her shoulder.

"Listen kid, your General just needs to rest for a while. Think you can keep it down?"

" Quiet as a sigh, Synthia," she teased. That got The Eyebrow from Nick.

"Smartass," he said. 

Skyler showed Nate to the bed and offered to sort the junk. Why carry a whole desk fan when all you need are the tiny gears and screws and the steel blades? The General agreed but said it could wait until morning. He'd pick up the components later. 

Nick had dragged the rusty metal table into the centre of the workshop, along with two chairs. He'd set a dirty old ashtray next to a pristine pack of cigarettes, two shotglasses and a half-full bottle of whiskey. "Care to join me or are you too busy composing your next wisecrack?"

Skyler smirked, pulled a Nuka Cherry out of her pack and poured some into a shot glass.

"Pacing yourself, doll? You know, Ellie tells me that Nuka Cherry and whiskey ain't half bad. I'm a purist, myself," he said, crossing his ankles and lighting a 'Grey Tortoise'.

"So am I. I'll take my Nuka neat, thanks and I'll _drink_ when I'm off duty." She considered the strange, yellow-eyed face of the synthetic man for a moment. "So how come you drink and eat noodles? To try and fit in?"

"What, you think I'm runnin' on sunshine, here?"

"Or Moonshine, maybe?"

"Funny, sweetheart but I prefer whiskey. Let's just say I don't run on batteries and leave it at that, shall we? As for fitting in…well, that isn't an option for a discarded prototype and I'm damn glad of it. The Institute must seriously underrate honesty, sending these doppelgangers in…and for what?" He sighed. "That's one mystery I doubt I'll ever be the one to solve."

They sat in an awkward silence for a while. Skyler suddenly remembered something, squirrelled away in her pack. She dug down for it and handed it to Valentine. "For you. A gift. I better get back on watch. Could you relieve me at about five so I can grab a couple hours?"

Nick turned the little box over in his hand. "Playing cards? Thanks but what for?"

"For looking out for the boss….and putting up with me."

"Hey, you're a breath of fresh air, doll. Even if you _are_ a jackass."

Skyler glanced to the floor and laughed.

"I'll come take over at two a.m. so you can get some actual rest. The boss needs you to take care of something tomorrow."

"Sure thing, Valentine. Thanks."

Skyler headed back up to the roof and Nick poured a second whiskey. "Now, how did Solitaire go, again?" he mumbled to himself around the lit cigarette between his lips.

* * * 

The next morning, Skyler awoke to the smell of cooking Stingwing fillet. A third chair had been drawn up to the little table and three places had been set, with mismatched plates and cutlery of plastic, steel and silver. The General entered, whistling a tune she'd never heard before and when asked what it was called, he said something like 'Pencil Vain Ee Yeah Six Five Thousand', which was the strangest name for a song she'd ever heard. 

He seemed to be in good spirits again, served their food, sat down and tucked in with gusto.

"Somebody's hungry!" remarked Skyler. 

"You'd never get away with talking to a superior officer like that in the Brotherhood," commented Nick. The General was keen to hear more, so they told him what they knew. So far, they'd not had any contact but knew from other Minutemen that an advance team had got cosy in Cambridge Police Station.

After the meal, the General gave Skyler and Dogmeat orders to search the fort for anything useful. He knew that she was a dab hand with a bobby pin and though he and Nick had opened up the terminals, there were still a few locked drawers and safes inside. They were bound for Goodneighbour and she was to radio for the patrol to carry the salvage back to the nearest settlement, then she was to look for potential new recruits. They'd need the numbers if the tin cans had spoiled.

"Hold the fort," the General had said as he walked away with a wink, a salute and that cocky smile of his.

_The fort was eerie. There were so many synth husks littering the place that I marvelled at the fact Nate an' Nick had got out at all. From the spent Stimpak cases I kept finding, it looked like it had been one hell of a battle._

_I saw what was left of him, the merc who'd stolen Nate's child and killed his wife. He looked like a mean son-of-a-bitch even in death. Some faces don't do that. The fierce-faced raider's face can turn to fear or sadness, guilt or even relief, sometimes. They say you show your true self when you sleep, well, when people die I guess the overriding truth of their life is there for all to see. Most raider types just carry on looking mean and as for muties, they just stay ugly._

_I went through that place twice over on scav duty, there was that much. I then spent two days waiting for the patrol, breaking everything down and sorting it as best I could and when the patrol finally arrived, Dogmeat decided to go with them._

_When my gear was stowed, I checked the map that Preston had provided. Goodneighbor. It was infamous. Still, I was due some downtime so I decided to head straight for the bar and get a stiff drink. I got a lot more than I bargained for._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you get the reference in the chapter summary? If you did, have you got the themetune out of your head, yet?  
> I'm loving the challenge of sidestepping out of the main plot and running parallel to it. Of course, the Sole Survivor is still running the show...for the time being.  
> Leave me comments and let me hear about it if you're curious to know anything about Skyler in particular.


	7. Goodneighbor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Skyler arrives at Goodneighbor to rendevous with the General but ends up staying longer than she bargained for. Good things happen to those who wait...

_The sun had already gone down when I arrived at Goodneighbor, making the bright neon signs all the easier to see. The journey was a relatively easy one but I could tell by the mutie and raider corpses that the General's arrival had been a different story._

_I wasn't expecting the shops to be open but with a ghoul in one and a robot in charge of the other, service was pretty much 24/7. I got a decent price for my crap, offloading the heavier junk whilst I held on to a few pieces I'd not yet decided what to do with. The ghoul, Daisy, directed me to the only bar in town, the Third Rail, so I headed over with every intention to get slightly drunk._

"If your preaching about the Atom or looking for a friend, you've got the wrong guy. If you're looking for a hired gun, then maybe we can talk."

The guy in the V.I.P. room of the Third Rail didn't look like much but from the way those two meatbags slouched out, he must have something going for him. Skyler drank another mouthful of her Whiskey-pop that tasted like it had been cut with dirty water as well as Nuka Cherry. Unfolding her legs and placing the glass on the floor, she wandered up to him.

"An ally, maybe."

"Lady, you can hire my loyalty for two hundred and fifty caps.I'm the sharpest shot in the Commonwealth"

"I don't know you from Atom. How do I know I won't get scammed?"

"What, you've not heard of R.J. MacCready?"

"Only from some dame in the bar just now," Skyler said, gesturing over her shoulder with a thumb, "besides, I'm not sure I want to hire anyone who has the Gunners looking to permanently fire their ass and I haven't seen you hit the ocean with a pebble, yet." She paused, deciding to trust her gut.

"One-fifty."

"Now that's just plain insulting. I can hit an eyeball from across the street and take down a fast moving target in one hit. Two hundred."

"Done. But you have to let me buy you a drink, first."

MacCready held up his hands in surrender and laughed. "I can't argue with that!"

Skyler had planned to get him drunk so she could peel away a few layers of bravado and get to know him a little better but he stopped at three beers, the last two of which she made him pay for himself.

* * *  
The Hotel Rexford had just one room available. A chem dealer was chatting to some guy in a pirate costume but apart from that, the foyer was empty. She took the key and they headed up.

Just as Skyler and MacCready had reached the top floor, a door opened and a ghoul in a yellow trenchcoat and hat peeked out. "Miss Woods, I presume?"

She startled as no-one used her last name, especially not since the General happened to bear the same one. "Who's asking?"

"Oh, pardon me Miss but Mr. Woods asked me to tell you that he'll be back in…what day is it today? Oh, in about a week."

"Why should I trust you?"

"Ah, yes, he said you might need…er, I'm the guy who sold him on living underground as a popsicle. Triple one. I'm moving to Sanctuary tomorrow, can you believe it? He gave me a job!"

"Alright, message received Rep. Thanks. Safe journey."

"Have a good night now, Miss!" He tipped his hat to her, ignoring MacCready, whether deliberately or not, she wasn't sure.

Closing the door behind them, Mac went straight over to the couch and started peeling his outer layers off. Skyler took off her pack, kicking it under the bed and removing her outer shirt. She spread a blanket on top of one of the dubious looking mattresses, looked over at MacCready trying to lay his wiry frame comfortably onto the short sofa and shook her head.

"Hey, there's a perfectly good bed right here. For sleeping on, just to be crystal clear."

Mac mumbled his thanks and shuffled over to the bed, taking the side nearest the wall. He pulled his cap down over his eyes and was asleep in moments. It took a little longer for Skyler to calm her racing mind but eventually she fell into the deepest sleep she'd had for months.

* * *  
The following day, Mac took her on a brief tour of Goodneighbor. There really wasn't much to see beyond what she had already been aquainted with. Breakfast was a do-it-yourself affair at the communal cooking fire. After their morning mutt chops, Skyler split a pack of gum drops with him, much to Mac's delight. It turned out that he had several sweet teeth, some of which had long been broken.

They went into the Memory Den after that, just for a nosey but Doctor Amari recognised Skyler from the General's description of her. They were informed that Nate had gone to the Glowing Sea with Valentine, chasing the trail of clues.

Outside, tucked into a private corner, Skyler informed Mac that they would wait out the week and then go looking.

"What? You gotta be kidding me. No way are we setting foot in radiation hell."

"I'm not stupid. Nor do I have any hazmat suits or power armour in this bag. No, we'll skirt the edges and keep our ears open for news if we have to. I think Colonel Garvey mentioned a farm down near the borderlands. We could head there first."

Mac shrugged, unimpressed but a job was a job, right? Next he headed over to Daisy's Discounts. The ghoul smiled when she saw MacCready.

"Hello, Longshot. Hey, I've got something for you. Just came in." She handed an envelope over which he quickly shoved away into a pocket. "As for you, lovely, how can I help? Oh, I've restocked on the forty-fives you bought up yesterday."

Skyler rummaged through her pack, finding enough to trade for the extra ammo and a lovely clean headscarf. "Got a mirror?"

"For a friend of MacCready's, I'll let you use my own. Upstairs," she pointed. "R.J., you left your socks there dear," added Daisy. She motioned him to follow Skyler up to keep an eye on her. He hadn't actually left anything behind, being very careful with his possessions but sure enough, there was a neatly folded pair of red socks in his size. Mac smiled at Daisy's kindness. He'd bunked here a few nights though she'd nag at him to earn some caps to rent a room from Claire. He'd been trying, really he had. Skyler had been his first client in weeks.

Immediately in front of her at the top of the stairs was a dresser. A wig stand and ornate hairbrush rested on a crotcheted doily, a glass jar of some pleasant-smelling unguent and some toothpaste on one side. Above the dresser, a decorative metal-framed mirror hung. Skyler borrowed the brush, sweeping her hair into a smaller version of the Hornet's Nest she'd seen in a magazine, strategically placing bobby pins into her hair instead of into locks (for a change) and tying her new do-rag in place. She produced a stub of lipstick and scraped some out with a nail then touched up her eyeliner.

Mac was sitting on the top step reading a book, keeping only half an eye on her, so when she coughed for his attention, he really was impressed. They descended the stairs together after Skyler had carefully replaced the brush.

"Well, well, look at you, glamourpuss!" crooned Daisy. Skyler genuinely blushed at the compliment patting the back of her hair with her palm. She decided to trade the rest of her junk for items she could fix or improve her armour with and so the day passed quickly, mostly spent in the shop.

That evening, they returned to the bar. Whitechapel Charlie gave them a job but Skyler decided that it could wait a day. She sat back, enjoying her drink. Mac drank a couple of whiskeys and then said he needed to turn in. Meanwhile, the music seeped right into her and the dazzling sparkles from the singer's red dress mesmerised her. The song finished and Magnolia wandered over.

"I saw you gazing at me with those clear blues, darling. Enjoying the music?"

"It's wonderful. Never heard anyone sing like that before."

"Glad you enjoyed it, lovely."

Skyler decided to make use of what her Pa had called 'Dutch courage'. She always thought that it was a bit insulting to Dutch, whoever he was. The last of her drink went down in one. "Fancy getting some fresh air?"

"Do I. Let me get my coat."

They wandered out of the bar and climbed a fire escape. Skyler lay out her blanket and produced the bottle of wine she'd purchased whilst the singer had stepped out. Two mismatched but clean glasses were produced and they enjoyed starlight and a waning moon.

The night grew cold, so Magnolia brought Skyler to her room. The moment the door was closed, Skyler leant in for a kiss.

"Not on the lips, honeybun. Otherwise, I'm all yours…just for tonight."

She led Skylar to her wide bed. A pretty scarf draped over a lamp and some candles in the corner made for a sensual atmosphere. Magnolia slowly undid each button on Skyler's shirt, pulling it away unhurriedly. Cheeks and necks were showered in soft, full-lipped kisses. Her undershirt and bra abandoned their posts, delighting the singer with the generous bosom beneath. 

Skyler slipped the red straps from Magnolia's shoulders, easing the sequinned fabric down to reveal modest but perfect breasts, a pale white torso and dark hairs. She kissed all the way down, turning the musician onto her back to taste her, sweet and fragrant. Magnolia let out a symphony of delight, leading to a silent crescendo.

She turned to Skyler, undoing her trousers slowly and sliding them down. Skyler's hand shot out to halt her, suddenly.

"I'm not quite…uh, I'm a little…"

Magnolia hadn't been deterred. She gently slipped the last fabric from Skyler's frame.

"Oh! Oh my. Well, let me see what I can do for you, honey," she crooned.

Skylar's orgasmic cry woke half the hotel.

* * *  
_I was walking on air the next day. RJ noticed but didn't say anything. We took the rare chance to rest, to talk. Not enough to become actual friends but we skirted pretty close on occassion. That night we both crashed early and got up in the small hours._

_The locks were easy, the Triggermen infesting the warehouses went down like dominoes and we got paid. The General returned earlier than expected, looking like shit until we'd cleared his system with two doses of Radaway. The guy can't hold down anything packaged. Mac perceptively pointed out that it's probably because his guts are from the time before irradiated food was a diet staple._

_Valentine looked as if he didn't have a scratch but Nate's power armour was trashed. I did what I could to fix it but no-one ever taught me the science stuff. Still, I'm pretty handy with a hammer._

_Mac got asked to join up. The General just came right out with it. That nearly scared him away. Mercs have reasons for being mercenary, although, I have a good feeling about RJ. Maybe he'll come round one day. Until then, I'm more than happy to have a guy as talented as he is watching my back. He owes me a beer: he missed the eyeball across the street. I told him, the nose didn't count._


	8. Jamaica

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A straightforward mission turns into a nightmare, thanks to one little detail.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content advisory: fairly graphic injury depiction

_I've said it before and I'll say it again, travelling the Commonwealth is no picnic. Sure, there's an abundance of Big Bads out there but sometimes, it's the little things that take you down._

_Whilst the General and Valentine were out taking down the Courser, I was following my orders to find new recruits and sites suitable for settlement. Garvey was thinking big, expanding across the Commonwealth rapidly. He knew that there were dozens of potential settlers out there, hiding, just scraping by, never staying in one place for long. Alone, they were weak, vulnerable. Together, we'd have a fighting chance._

"You're kidding, right?" MacCready asked incredulously, holding the delicate, faded old leaflet in his hand.

"Why do you always think I'm joking, merc?"

"Don't call me that. I have a name, y'know."

"Sorry, RJ. You are, though."

"I am what?"

"A mercenary."

"Never said I wasn't. Just don't like being called 'merc', is all."

"You don't have to be, if you'd just join…"

"Oh, not this again. Look, lady, you're paying me to do a job. I'm doing it. When the job's over, I…"

"You never specified a time-frame." Skyler glared at him over the top of her sunglasses.

"The standard one! Thirty-one days, I assumed you knew that when you hired me."

"Should maybe have made up a written contract then. Alright, that gives us about three weeks. Plenty of time."

MacCready was silent after that, until they happened upon a tiny raider camp in their path. By this point, their packs were light on food and water, low on medical supplies and they were both tired and grouchy. The three raiders put up an average fight but Skyler and Mac were both operating a little below par, so it took them that bit longer to deal with the threat.

The raiders' stash was poor but they needed every last tin of cram. Mac had no qualms about eating canned dog food but when Skyler found out that he'd always thought it was a kind of processed mutt-chops, she laughed her ass off. What she didn't tell him was that she'd always assumed the same until Nate explained it to her. Mac would never know that, though, she'd make sure.

Exhausted, they plonked themselves down on the grubby sleeping bags. Mac kept first watch and all was peaceful until Skyler stirred and then shot upright with a shout. "Shit, ow, fuckfuckfuck…"

MacCready scrambled over, tired eyes wide. Skyler was clutching her inner thigh near the crotch, a broken plank with a bloodied, rusted nail landing on the ground across the camp.

"Shit. Damn thing must have been under the bag. Stimpak! Oh, fucknuke, we're out. Got any alcohol?"

MacCready handed her a near empty bottle of Vodka. She turned away and poured the last drop onto the wound, through her clothing. Mac handed her a dressing and she insisted on dealing with it herself.

"Is it bad?" Mac asked, concern all over his face.

"No, just a scratch really but it smarts like a stingwing. I'm alright, really. Get some rest, MacCready, you look terrible."

He didn't have to be told twice, though he thoroughly checked the sleeping area before curling up in a ball.

Skyler waited until he was fast asleep, then removed the dressing to peek under her clothing. It wasn't a clean puncture but a messy rip in her thigh that had also nicked her private parts. She winced. By the way it throbbed, she knew it wasn't good. They'd have to make searching for medical supplies a priority in the morning. Looking at the map, an old military checkpoint seemed within easy reach to the north but they would have to be careful to avoid a mutie hotspot. University Point was closer and Skyler knew the rumours about that place but it might be worth the risk to scav it if they could. Beyond that was their ultimate destination, Jamaica Plain.

She decided to scout out University Point first then head up to the checkpoint, to maximise their chances of finding medical supplies. Feeling all the better for having a clear course of action, Skyler settled into the familiar semi-restful state of keeping watch.

* * *  
The sun rolled morning into the sky with a mean streak of red to it. MacCready woke and cooked a hasty breakfast whilst Skyler re-packed their bags. Her crotch was throbbing and she'd developed a limp, though she didn't complain in the slightest.

They made it to University point, creeping close to the outskirts. It seemed quiet. They ventured just inside and saw ruined and sunken shacks, the detritus of a once thriving settlement. Skyler's keen eyes spotted several grenades. They cautiously crept in further and heard a voice that chilled them both to the bone. An artificial tone, unlike any human or robot, spoke words that it clearly did not mean. A blue energy blast shot past MacCready but he was lightning quick, getting the first couple of shots in before Skyler took it out. There were only four of them in the courtyard, all told, quickly dispatched. They mutually agreed that they would leave the main building well alone. 

"This place gives me the creeps," MacCready said, pocketing a toy car. "Let's….ah….let's not stay here too long, okay?"

Skyler hobbled over to a stove and lit it, unwrapping mirelurk meat ready for cooking. "No longer than we have to. Any sign of med supplies?"

"A Rad-X, some gauze pads and a Med-X. No antibiotics yet, I'll keep looking." He turned a worried face toward his boss. Her cherry red lipstick stood out more starkly against her paled skin and he caught her wiping sweat from her brow when the day really wasn't that warm.

"You do that. I just need to eat then I'm gonna catch a few Z's." 

Mac searched everywhere along that side thoroughly, not venturing too far so that he could hear if anyone went anywhere near her. A couple of Stimpaks were hidden in a Blast Radius box and he found a safe that he couldn't open but would bet his last cigarette that Skyler could.

He went up to the room where she lay, though he was shocked to see her taken by a fever, sweating and restless. He recalled a wasteland remedy to take a fever down and rooted around in her pack for the flowers she picked, pressed in the pages of a burnt book. He found the carrotflower he was searching for and went down to the stove to make it into a tea. She had left him a meal, which he scarfed down whilst waiting for the water to boil.

Upstairs again, he pressed a cold rag to her forehead and made her drink the tea. The first sip, she spat back into his face. It was a bitter, umami kind of taste. He made her down the rest of the cup and insisted that she slept.

They holed up in that room for the rest of the night. Mac lay his bedroll on the hard floor whilst Skyler got a decent night's sleep. By morning, she seemed much better and insisted that they carried on. 

* * * 

The Boston Military Checkpoint came into view. They'd circled round to approach it from a rocky prominence to the north. A Gunner slept in the long truck. One silenced shot from MacCready later made it his last, long rest. Three more were in the bunker but were eventually dispatched. 

"Are you impressed, yet?" asked MacCready, boastfully.

"I gotta admit that I am, actually, hotshot." Skyler suddenly looked very pale again and sat down quickly onto the bunk, clutching her thigh.

"Shi..er, shoot. I forgot you were hurt. Lemme see."

"No!" she shouted, with a little more force than she'd intended. "Just see if they had any antibiotics." She lay back and drank some water.

MacCready rummaged in the drawers and lockers, finding a few useful things. "Got a Stimpak here!" he called and rushed over, poised to administer it for her but she snatched the pressurised syringe away with a frown. Skyler positioned the tip to pierce through to the deepest part of the wound and cried out in pain as the stuff burned into her flesh. After a moment she felt well enough to stand and attempted to pick a wall safe. The lock was beyond her, though. 

They decided to rest for the remainder of the day and tackle the last stretch to Jamaica Plain at first light. 

* * *  
Skyler hopped up onto the roof of an old truck, picking off ghouls left, right and centre. MacCready drew them out, popping rotten heads like old gourds. The town hall disengorged yet more of the walking not-quite-dead and Mac had to dive in to save Skyler from an incoming biter. She had tired quickly and Mac was tempted to order her to retreat and rest but she was the one giving orders.

Some lucky finds enabled them to avoid the Treasury's defences. When the door opened, Mac laughed and Skyler just gave a dissappointed, "Is this it? Really? It's a junk museum!"  
This only made MacCready laugh more, though he did pull himself together and, wiping his eyes, searched for useful items. An extra Stimpak and a few other odds and sods were crammed into Mac's pack.

They left the building and found the remains of a garage with an intact workshop. Skyler radio'd it in and they began setting up the basics: beds, water, food, defences. By the evening, Skyler had started looking worse again. She was just tightening the last bolt on a turret, fixing it to the roof when Mac heard her cry out and fall off the ladder.

"Shiiiit." Her hand came away from her thigh covered in blood and gunk. "Oh, crapola. Not good."

MacCready dragged her inside the house and propped her on a chair, his concern propping his eyebrows up underneath his wrinkled forehead. "Boss, I need to see. No offence but I have to take those pants off. I'll..uh…just get some water boiling. Here, drink this."

"Whiskey?"

"No, just purified."

"Shame..ah! Fuck-a-feral that hurts."

Mac gave a humourless laugh. "You can have some soapy water after, wash that filth outta your mouth."

"What're you, a pastor?"

"No. But I did make a promise to someone. Now, oh damn, I'm gonna have to pull. Let me see if I can soak it off."

Mac put a warm, wet cloth to the fabric and the trousers came free. He saw that her underpants had a bloody tear in, too.

"Well, this is awkward," Skyler slurred. 

Mac looked at her square in the eye. "I'm no medic but I know something about field dressing. You have my word this is strictly a professional service. I need to keep you alive, how else will I get paid next month?" His laugh was a hollow one, his words jarring against the look in his eyes.

Skyler breathed deeply, her heart pounding. "Alright, you have my permission but you need to know, I… just don't say anything, please, RJ."

Mac didn't know what she was trying to say until he snipped the ruined garment off. When he saw her naked truth he couldn't help himself, the words slipped out before he could stop them.  
"What am I looking at here?"

"Radiation's a bitch. Just patch me up, Mac."

MacCready worked in silence, tenderly cleansing the infected wound. He applied a stimpak cautiously and bound it up as carefully as he was able, then found a tatty skirt for her from the upstairs dresser. "Skyler, we've gotta get you to a Doc." 

"There's a hospital right up the road," she chuckled. 

"Yeah, full of greenboys. We're gonna have to head back to Diamond City, Corporal Woods."

"Don't think I can make that, Mac."

"You..erm…you just rest. I'm gonna scout out the roads."

"Don't go too far!"

"Hey, hey, I'm not gonna leave you, just gonna climb that church tower and scope it out. I'll keep checking on you, alright?"

Skyler was too tired to reply. She just closed her eyes and nodded. He'd seen her and not run, not been mean or scared. Her trust for him just doubled.

_I don't talk about it, so don't ask. RJ stopped a trader and must have paid a bunch of caps to load me onto the back of a brahmin. You ever wonder why nobody rides them? They hate it. The trader was real careful that Moo-moo didn't see, thought it was just getting loaded with a couple new trunks._

_It wasn't comfortable, not in the least but it got me to the Great Green Jewel…and I only passed out once. Doc Sun was, well, sensitive and professional. MacCready somehow persuaded the authorities to let us use Kellogg's old place as a private infirmary and it took me three days and several doses to shake the nasty infection._

_RJ might push it aside but I count him as a friend. He didn't judge, just dealt. He showed me more of his true self than alcohol could ever reveal. Then, on the last evening as I sat up in bed stuffing my face and laughing, feeling almost fully recovered, he went quiet. He let me in; not too much, just enough to balance the scales of trust. The guy is a Minuteman through and through. He just doesn't know it yet._


	9. Independence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Minutemen return and the Commonwealth looks a little brighter.

_If there's one thing that helps me wind down, it's music. If there's a radio in an abadoned place and I feel safe enough, I'll turn it on. MacCready complains and always, without fail, turns the volume down but I'll catch him humming the last thing we listened to, half a mile down the road._

_Not that there's too much variety. I'm always hoping to catch a fresh holotape of rockin' beats every time I crack a safe but so far, not a note. I live in hope. Don't we all? Well…those of us who aren't raiders or muties or heartless Gunners, anyway. I think that's what separates us folks who just choose to live a simple, honest life, working our way back up the ladder of civilisation from the rest. There's the gray area that we like to call Goodneighbor, of course but I think even they have hope. Hope for freedom, hope to live life as they choose without threat of a sudden, murderous death. Hope for pleasure._

_As it turned out, the Commonwealth was about to get another radio station finally and one that broadcast more than music. No, this one sent out bright rays of hope alongside the fiddle tunes._

The General had insisted that the newly promoted Corporal bring a suit of power armour along. Skyler and MacCready had the bare bones of a suit of T-45 sitting in the workshop at Jamaica Plains. It was in a pretty poor condition, though and since they had a few days before the rendevous at the castle, they decided to get as much as they could carry from the path they'd already cleared between University Point, South Boston Military Checkpoint and Jamaica Plains itself.

"I'm not much of a hammer and nails type," commented MacCready as he handed Skyler an oilcan. Her hair was up, restrained stylishly with a headscarf. Her makeup today was Strawberry Kiss lipstick, kohl and axel grease. Mac chased away the fleeting thought that she looked hot in a Red Rocket mechanic suit and took a sip of beer instead.

Travis wavered out of the radio speaker, followed by 'A Whole Lotta Shakin' ' Skyler grinned. "I _love_ this one!" she said and started swaying her hips and singing along whilst fitting the shin panel in place. Mac had to turn his head away and think of anything but the butt. He reminded himself that he was a professional, though his gaze did slip once. Seeing Skyler so happy made him smile too then the act of smiling brought Duncan to mind. He slipped a tatty bit of yellowed paper from his pocket, bearing a wax crayon scribble of a stick man in a hat and a stick lady above him, laying down. His smile soured and the paper was hastily refolded and shoved back into his pocket for the umpteenth time as Skyler's voice startled him back to the moment.

"Hey, pass me the adjustable wrench, wouldya? No, the one with gears on. That's the baby."

The sharp sounds of steel against steel, the radio playing 'One More Tomorrow' and Skyler uttering the word 'baby' were too much for the man. He stood up, mumbling that he needed a cigarette and went outside. Not that the workshop really counted as 'inside' with no roof and one wall missing. Still, he needed to pace, needed to get up high, so he went into the house proper, up the stairs and out the window to squat on the flat porch roof. It creaked slightly but held his weight.

After the third cigarette, he'd made his decision. He lowered himself, simian-like, off the edge of the porch and dropped the last few feet. Striding up to Skyler, who had slumped onto a chair, wiping grease off her hands with a rag and what just looked like more grease, he stopped and turned off the radio.

"D'you mind, I was listening to that?'

"Just hear me out a second. Those Gunners, the two from the Third Rail? You were right, I'm putting you in unnecessary danger with those goons looking to catch me where they can hunt me down. I was thinking, if we go after them first…"

Skyler sighed out a long breath. "I have my orders, MacCready and by virtue of _my_ hard won caps in _your_ pockets, you have to follow mine." She paused, rubbing the backs of her fingers against her jawline, thinking. "Alright, listen. We go retake the Castle, then I'll get permission. It shouldn't be hard. The Minutemen owe the Gunners some serious payback and this would be a good first step, but not without having the Castle under our belts, you hear?"

"Sure thing, boss."

* * *

Getting the single set of power armour ready took longer than Mac had anticipated. Despite Preston radio-ing in to say that his men were standing by, the General was taking his own sweet time getting there. When Skyler had tinkered as much as skill and materials allowed, they made their way to the rendevous point. Colonel Garvey suggested the sniping duo do a quick sweep of the local area.

Hunkered down behind a wide green bin, Skyler peeked around the corner and drew her head quickly back. "At least three, one looks like he might give us some trouble."

"Alright, I'll take the gang, you focus on the leader," Mac said.

"Who's the boss here? Nevermind. Good plan. Go."

They spread out, darting for cover, firing, sneaking, shooting again. Mac reduced the rabble to a mess of rotten tatoes whilst the main raider, an experienced bastard by the lines on his face and the scars crossing his bared flesh, closed in on Skyler.

He was fast, probably on jet or some pumped up version. He anticipated her move and popped up in front of her despite a leg that had been severely crippled. He swung for her with something that flashed in the light but her defensive shot was echoed by MacCready's and the thug went down.

"I felt that go through my hair!" said Skyler, panting.

"Sorry, didn't mean to shake you up. He was gonna cause you harm."

"I'm not shaken, I'm seriously impressed! You and me, RJ, we're gonna have a sniping contest one day. Bet I can beat you over a distance."

Mac smirked. "Lady, as long as the targets aren't trying to hit us, you got yourself a deal."

They continued their sweep and suddenly heard gunfire from the old brewery. The General had caught up with them, bringing Dogmeat along for company but they had stirred up a mutie den. By the time the two snipers caught up, there was little left for them to deal with except two mutant hounds and their injured handler. 

The group loaded up on as many resources as they could carry and headed out to the old diner to join up with the rest of the team.

"Is this it, just the four of them?" asked MacCready incredulously, his voice hushed as the General discussed his plans.

"Good thing we turned up," replied Skyler brightly, though secretly she was as dismayed as MacCready at the sparsity of their number.

Whilst the General, Dogmeat, Preston and Lieutenant Saxon formed one prong of their attack, Corporal Skyler, MacCready, Private Lewis and Major Lucille took the other. The place was swarming with 'lurks, littered with their eggs. The scuttling spawn were everywhere and Skyler's riflebutt was soon covered in their mildly acidic slime. Mac raced up to a high point and provided fire support whilst Skyler swept the tunnels. 

A reverberant roar dislodged cracked plaster from the passage roof. Skyler climbed the steps, brushing fine debris out of her face. She emerged in time to see the towering mother of crustaceans scuttle over the ruined wall on the opposite side of the castle. Skyler's power armour beeped its low core warning, so she crouched and steadied her aim. The suit's big mitts were clumsy as as a drunken raider on a raft, so she hit the EXIT button in the suit with the heel of her hand and climbed out as it unfurled. 

She crouched, using the spent armour as a shield, aiming for its spouts. MacCready, a wall away, perched precariously at the edge of the wall on the wrong side of a guard post, had the same idea. The hideous monster squirted its acidic pus, narrowly missing Preston but hitting Lucille directly in the face. Her last choked scream was brief. 

Mac hit one spout and Skyler nicked the other, just as the telltale whistling scream of a Fatman launching its portable nuke pierced their ears. The yellow fluid squirted out of the damaged spout, causing it to spray to the left, missing Preston. The small nuclear explosion cracked the crustaceous shell, exposing a grey, throbbing mass beneath. 

The men left standing all ran for cover in the tunnelled walls as General Nate Woods loaded a second mini-nuke. MacCready ran down the steps after Skyler and they both crouched, Mac instinctively covering her body with his own. The roaring increased as the second air-splitting scream of death became thunderous destruction. The ground shook, unoriginally, as the beast fell defeated by the atom and gravity.

_There's nothing really heroic about winning. There's relief followed by grief; there's the real battle of cleaning, clearing, repairing and making anew. It's carrying on after you've won that is the real act of heroism._

_Mac and I stayed on shovelling mirelurk scat for a day, the price we had to pay for being allowed to run off chasing Gunners. At least we had water, food, music and alcohol. Amontillado wine has a punch that made up for its taste as our numbers gradually swelled with Minutemen that had arrived a few hours too late, whether through poor timing or lack of courage, who was to say._

_My Pa would've had a tear in his eye to see this. I can't exactly say my eyes were dry, either, though RJ may have taken it the wrong way._


	10. (r)Egret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The title says it all.

_The Commonwealth doesn't give a shit how you feel, that's the hard truth. Trouble is, human beings can't help feeling all over the place. Sometimes our emotions help us. Fear keeps you alive and love gives you something worth fighting for but if either of these turn sour, they're about as good for you as a bath in Doc Bethany's pond. Well, if you're a smoothskin. I guess a bath in Diamond City's pond would be just as bad for any ghoul right now. Stupid old mayor._

_One emotion that costs folk dearly is regret. You just can't drag baggage like that around with you for long, else it cripples you and one day, you might not even bother running anymore. Mac had to deal with his mis-step into Gunnerhood and I was only too happy to help._

Skyler and MacCready were close, now. They'd journeyed all the way back to Red Rocket to gather supplies, check on Dogmeat for the General and to plan their approach. It had all gone smoothly until Car Henge. MacCready kicked himself for not realising that they were this close to it until it was too late. Skyler had seen green in the distance and fired. Mac's face had eloquently told her just how badly she'd messed up and they ran for the nearest cover, an old bus.

The Behemoth turned to trace the source of the sting and saw Skyler get through the door. MacCready, however, didn't follow.

"RJ! What the hell are you doing? Get in here!"

MacCready, not wanting to draw attention to himself, put a finger to his lips and made a finger gun sign.

"Okay, we'll try it your way, bossman," she mumbled as the wind carried the scent of old-man-gone-off toward her. She winced at the waft of old urine and rotten meat as she aimed for its little black eye. The shot just missed and glanced off a thick, numb skull. The beast picked up a small boulder and hurled it at the bus, roaring. The gaping maw made a damn good target and she lodged one bullet in its gullet.

As the overmutated giant lumbered backward, Mac crouched behind a large stone, halfway up a rocky slope, and took aim. He went for the kneecap, splitting it with a crack but still that wasn't enough to halt the thing. It staggered towards MacCready, throwing a boulder that connected with the rock he was hiding behind and shattered it, knocking him down the slope in the process.

Skyler saw Mac slide down toward the behemoth and her heart pounded. She swapped to her shotgun and ran up close behind him, aiming up into his armpit just as he was about to smash a fist down onto MacCready's still-rolling form. The shell hit its mark and nudged the mutant sideways, just enough so Mac ended up stopping his roll right next to a large, stinking hand.

"That…was too close," Mac wheezed.

"Are you hurt? Let me see, " Skyler said, already drawing a little med-kit from her pack.

"Feels like a cracked rib. Just bind it, save the Stimpacks," he winced.

"Alright but we need to rest. Here, you go in the bus and get this started," she commanded, handing him a hotplate, followed by a pan and some Pork'n'Beans. "I'll scav the thing's den, back in a tick."

She found a few useful supplies, including an extra stimpak which she insisted on using to heal RJ's ribs. They dozed in shifts, gathering each spoonful of strength they could muster before the light was in the best place for the coming attack.

* * * 

Skyler's boot slipped on the steep, crumbly old tarmac but RJ caught her waist. "There," he whispered, "go up diagonally. It levels out up ahead."  
They climbed cautiously looking up to their left, through scopes, at the crack in the skyway above. Mac guided her to a spot that he'd scouted weeks ago, where a large truck and trailer provided good sightlines and cover.

They took out most of the Gunners at a distance and judging from the explosion, a robot of some sort too. Barnes was stupid enough to stick his ugly mug out from behind a steel beam at just the moment that Skyler was refocussing from a previous killshot. He went down and Mac finished him off.

Winlock wasn't much brighter, running to the side of his ex-companion only to get fired upon by MacCready. Whilst he was erasing his regret, Skyler nimbly made her way down to the ground and over to the lightly guarded lift, reaching the top just as Winlock ended. She picked off the last of them and the one remaining turret then signalled to MacCready to come up. There was more scav than they could carry, even after having broken down unnecessary arms and armour into component parts.

Skyler heard Mac whoop for joy and turned round to see a copy of Grognak held aloft by his less-sleeved arm. He jogged up to Skyler to show her. "The damn cheat 'won' this off me a while back. Never thought I'd see another issue like it, it's one of my favourites!" Mac's face glowed. "He'll love these," he whispered to himself.

"Whaddya say?"

"Nothing. Just…we did it! The Gunners just lost big time, this was a major outpost."

"Yeah, payback, issue one," Skyler joked, geekily. MacCready couldn't help but laugh with her, relieved and exhausted. They decided to sleep up there, in shifts, before carrying on to a point on the map that Preston had suggested.

* * *  
Skyler got a radio message from the General, asking her to come and meet some new friends, so they headed East, making straight for Vault 81. The voice on the intercom asked a question that only Skyler knew the answer to and the door rolled open. 

The General stood there, beaming. He welcomed MacCready with a hearty handshake and put an arm around Skyler's shoulder's, thanking her again for her help at the Castle. They went down to the Summerset's Diner where Nate insisted on buying them dinner. A few residents said hello but the real 'meet and greet' tour was left until after they had been allowed to rest awhile.

Later, as MacCready sat cross-legged on the floor surrounded by kids listening to his retelling of Grognak's quests, Nate pulled Skyler aside.

"I thought you should know, Corporal. I've found a way in. Now, oh my, you look just like her…that expression…" Nate visibly pulled himself together, wrenching his mind from the past. Skyler remained silent.

"Now, it won't be happening anytime soon. Sturges - remember him?"

"Beefy mechanic, cute sideburns?"

Nate laughed. "That's the one. Well he's working on the plans…let me just say we gotta build our own door in. I'm going to need help finding parts and Preston tells me you're pretty good at the whole scav 'n' scrap."

"I'd be better at it if I could wrap my head around the more technical shit. I'm bright, Pa always said so. Just had nobody to teach me that old world stuff, y'know?"

"I bet you are…I'm sure Alexis Combes or Calvin could help out. There's bound to be technical manuals laying around here somewhere."

"Thanks. I'll ask them."

The General paused, considering Skyler carefully. "Mama Murphy said something to me. You're one of a kind, you know that?"

She blushed at that but not for the reason Nate assumed.

"Honestly, you'll climb the ranks quickly. I know you will." He gestured across the hall to MacCready. "Keep that one close. He'll join up when he's ready. If anyone can make that happen, you can. In the meantime if you need any caps to keep him around, you ask me."

Skyker nodded, slowly. "Actually, about that. After I helped him out with the Gunners, he gave me his hiring fee back. We're just splitting loot fifty-fifty, now."

"Hmm, good to hear. He's officer material, I just know it. I've seen this before, back in the day…just, well. Look after him. Of course you will."

"We're not _that_ close and personal, Sir and I have no interest in being anything more than friends. Just to be clear."

"Not my business, Corporal. Now, enjoy your stay. I'll be in touch when I find out what we need next."

* * * 

Two nights sleeping in a Vault was more than enough for MacCready. He liked his underground a little less…'Tek'.

They continued travelling south until they arrived at their destination: Egret Tours Marina. Skyler wondered briefly what it had been like when boats sailed here for pleasure. Scoping it out, it seemed deserted but was littered with mines.

"I bet someone's home," Skyler said, noticing a wisp of smoke. Someone most certainly was.

_Synths. The Institute have a lot to answer for. All that tech and they're using it to hide and replace regular folk with copies that sometimes don't even know what they are…and for what?_

_'They're a Synth!' has become a familiar cry. An excuse, a diversion, an accusation. Phyllis Daily was the first person I'd met to use that accusation against herself. This stupid concept stood between her and the acceptance of a terrible accident, delayed her healing. She's a Minuteman now and has become the person I send people to if they need to talk. The General turned her life around. He taught her a couple of techniques and now she's a different woman, a respected elder and our Counsellor._

_Healing. It has to be our priority._


	11. Catacombs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Skyler's relationship with both MacCready and the General deepens, though they don't always see eye to eye.

_There are some lines you just don't cross. Then there are those you dance either side of for a while until the line becomes a wall. That old red-tiled route marking the Freedom Trail was such a line._

_Nate had run down that red road and cracked their code like…well. It came easy to him. A smart man, the codename he chose was 'Professor'. Quite the 'aggrandisement' he told me later, for an ex-soldier who would have become a high school teacher had the world not ended._

_Funny phrase, that. The world didn't end. Many, many lives did, tragically, as did entire species. Thing about our Earth, though: she's a survivor. She takes all our crap, transforms it best she can and carries on. The General's like that, too. Took its toll on him. Even a man like that ain't as strong as a planet._

"Desdemona, Carrington. Here's the two recruits I told you about." The General of the Minutemen put a hand on Skyler's shoulder. "This here is Cherrybomb," he said, a little smile forming at Skyler's reaction to her new codename. "The sharp-eyed fellow here you can call Longshot." Nate's expression toward Mac was somewhere in the realm of 'do as you're told.' MacCready had been less than happy to get tangled up with the secretive organisation and even Corporal Skyler had been wary.

They were shown around HQ, a bald guy in shades watching them silently from an alcove until Nate soft-punched him in the shoulder, as if they were old army buds. "Deacon here is gonna get you up to speed. You alright, you usually have a lot more to say?"

"Oh, just chasing a few ideas around the cerebral dancefloor until we have a winner. Cherrybomb, you say? Well, pleasure is mine. As for you, hotshot,"

Mac interrupted through nearly gritted teeth, "Longshot."

"Yeah, well, we could use a friend in high places…. with a sniper rifle, that is," Deacon chuckled.

They were shown to grubby mattresses and allocated storage space. Nate - Professor - was deep in conversation with Desdemona whilst Carrington laid out a brief for their first mission, scrawled a few medical notes, issued them with supplies that the generous General had paid for and Tinker Tom walked around handing out noodlecups.

In the quiet nook that Skyler and Mac found themselves in, they ate together, subdued. It was late. Mac checked his watch; a little after 10pm. In the main room, most of the operatives were laying down to catch whatever sleep they could. Desdemona, Deacon and Nate were holding hushed counsel the other side of the catacomb.

MacCready put his bowl down, staring into the cracked but beautiful brown and blue glaze. Skyler felt the atmosphere deepen on the verge of his softly spoken words.

"What the f.. what the crap. I need to tell you something, Skyler."

"Is it something to do with why you keep stopping yourself from cursing? It's good for the soul, you should try it sometime."

"Don't I know it. It's not about you, it's about a promise I made…"

MacCready poured his heart out, about the wife he'd lost, about his sick little boy and the arrangement he'd made with an old friend, one strong enough to be entrusted with the care of his only family. Skyler couldn't help but open her heart to her friend's plight. She realised then that she loved MacCready, not romantically but as a brother in arms, a best friend, a trusted companion. She took his shoulders and drew him into a gentle embrace.

"We'll save him, RJ. Duncan can count on us," she whispered. 

His choked words of gratitude brushed her ear almost inaudibly.

* * *  
"Cherrybomb, Longshot, I trust you are rested? Let's get this mission underway, shall we? Here are the co-ord…"

"Sorry Doc, that one's gonna have to wait. Something came up," Skyler stated boldly.

Carrington's face darkened, anger and disbelief flashing in his eyes. This was not how HQ heavies were supposed to behave! "Unacceptable! You've managed to get in this deep, you're jolly well going to do as we tell you! Now, you have a synth to save…"

MacCready couldn't restrain himself. "And I have a SON to save, you pompous fucking synth hugger!"

All hell broke loose. Nate came running, Desdemona was hard-pressed to keep Glory in check and Skyler had put herself between the doc and the merc. The General raised his voice.

"What on this blasted earth do you think you're doing, soldier? You were given an order!"

Desdemona shouldered her way into the space beside Carrington. 

"Longshot, what is the meaning of this outburst?" she demanded.

Skyler could tell that nothing particularly helpful was going to come out of Mac's mouth just then, so she jumped in.

"Ma'am, we've just learned that a child's life is at risk and must prioritise that above Railroad duties. As soon as…"

"Enough, Corporal," barked Nate. "Both of you. With me, _now_." He turned to Desdemona. "I'll have this matter resolved, Des. My apologies."

Carrington mumbled and fumed as Desdemona nodded, crossed her arms and quietly signalled to Deacon. 

In the space just inside the secret door, the three Minutemen (well, two and a mercenary) stood glaring at the dusty floor.

M..ah.. Longshot. Listen, you've just blown it, bigtime, you hear me hothead?"

"Yessir, I hear you. I just don't care about their f…their mission. I need to save my son," he shot back.

"Well, dumbass, you could've told us sooner and saved us the trouble. Look….truth is," Nate paused, glancing toward Skyler. She barely nodded but it encouraged him onward. "I have a son I'm trying to save, too. His name's Shaun. He'd be about ten years old now. Yours?"

Mac softened somewhat, still not making eye contact but calm enough to say, "Duncan. Four…no, four and a half now."

"Duncan. Huh. I had a friend with that name, once. He told me it means 'dark-haired warrior'. Did you know that?"

"No. I did not."

"Well, my friend was so blonde he glowed in the dark!"

MacCready let a tiny huff of amusement out. "Duncan has dark hair, like me. He's a fighter too but…I don't know if he'll make it to five… I have to get that cure from Med-Tek!"

Skyler felt caught, not knowing what to say nor do so she continued staring at the floor, fidgeting with a hem.

"Well, son. Here's what we're going to do." The General quietly laid out his plan. A Railroad mission he'd just accepted took him very close to Med-Tek. He'd tell Des that he was keeping an eye on the loose cannon whilst Skyler would be paired with Deacon to carry out Doctor Carrington's mission. Everyone seemed happy with that, on the outside at least, so they geared up and moved out. RJ and Skyler saluted each other sadly as they went their separate ways but Skyler shot RJ a hopeful little cherrybomb smile.

* * *

Skyler crouched behind the rubble, counting green corpses. When she was satisfied that it was safe ahead, she turned to check on Deacon behind her and caught him about to pull his fresh pants up, a ridiculous pompadour wig on his head.

"What the frag? Get fuckin' dressed, atomhole!"

"Ah, to hear sweet poetry from a lady's lips," he smiled sarcastically as he whipped his shoes and t-shirt on at top speed. Skyler was still staring dumbfounded, so he added "Disguise is my shield."

She turned round, muttering "A breastplate'd be a better idea."

They found the synth prisoner in the bowels of the building, after efficiently dealing with the muties. Deacon handed the clueless young man a gun mods box and he ran off.

"What," Skyler frowned at Deacon, "you don't give 'em anything to protect themselves? Not even a weapon to defend themselves with? And what do the greenskins want them for, anyway?"

"Well, firstly, don't underestimate synths. The newbies can't hit a window with a rock but they can run. You'd think they'd stand out in those jumpsuits and…well, they do, so their first job is to find the nearest rag stash. They have a pretty strong survival instinct so most make it through, after we free 'em.

"Secondly, well, we're not sure. They don't eat 'em. Taste BAAAD apparently. The current theory is that they use the synths as lures to bring the real meat in."

"That'd be us," Skyler said dryly.

"Give 'em credit for trying." Deacon scratched his false hairline and holstered his pistol in his jeans. "I'm gonna head back to report in. You go do…whatever it is you do. Come back to HQ in a few days, alright?"

"I guess I will."

"Hey! I'm feelin' a little cold over here, Cherrybomb. Listen, we need to work together so I'm gonna give you something in case…well, in case you need it. Here."

Deacon handed Skyler a scrap of paper, folded and sealed with wax.

"Ah! Don't open it now. It's my recall code," Deacon said seriously.

"You're a synth?"

"Never said I wasn't. Thing is, you just can't always tell. Now if I start acting funny, if the Institute compromise me, you just open that and read it out. It'll stop me in my tracks. Thing is, I….I don't know if I'll still be, well, me, after I hear it so save it 'til you have no other option, okay?"

Skyler gave a little incredulous sideways nod and tucked the scrap into her back pocket and headed off.

_I caught up with The General and RJ none too soon. The route to Med-Tek was littered with cracked radscorp' shell and bullet casings. The forecourt was a mess of feral corpses. Must have been an especially large horde that cut them off from the door. I could see RJ's neat, precision handiwork next to Nate's more…energetic approach._

_Inside was a similar story, feral bodies leaving a trail I could track all the way down to the basement. When the elevator bumped to a halt and cracked open, I heard their yells. They were fighting off a particularly nasty lookin' pair of rad-dried prunes when I saw a glow shift. Through my scope, I caught sight of the sickly yellow-green bald pate rising above a metal counter. My trusty gun (still unnamed), launched the pointed, gleaming punctuation to end that ancient creature's pathetic story. Period. All over the room, man did that thing pop!_

_RJ and Nate, having beat their opponents, just stood and stared, panting. Their faces when they turned to see me were priceless but RJ's smile when I handed him the syringe of Prevent…well, I never saw hope painted so beautifically on a face before._

_A day later it was on its way to the poor little tyke. I'd assumed Mac would go with but he had his reasons to stay. The General had need of his skills and as for me, he sent me underground. Back to the Catacombs. Funny how the pivotal moments in my life happen underground, as if I'm like one of those old-world flowers that'd hide away when things got cold only to break above ground each spring. The Railroad was sour soil, though. I soon discovered why we couldn't thrive there._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> She's back! Apologies for the wait, I got sidetracked by another game *coughHZD*. I've almost caught my notes up to my gameplay which I'll be resuming in November.  
> Comments are always much appreciated. 0800 How's My Deacon? ;)


	12. North

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Skyler has her work cut out for her, going between the Railroad and the Minutemen. She knows where her loyalty lies.

_I spent a couple weeks working exclusively for the Railroad, under orders from the General. 'Good will missions' he'd called them. What I didn't get was how Nate could possibly like Deacon. The 'recall code' had turned out to be a joke. He probably thought he was teaching me a lesson, to trust no-one. It backfired on him as I trusted him less and less, couldn't believe anything that came out of his mouth. I was stressed out and on high alert from the guy who was supposed to have my back. It was exhausting, you just can't live like that. Leastways, not among 'allies', you can't._

_I missed RJ terribly but it wasn't his face that came to mind, unbidden. At first, I just assumed that I'd been thinking about how 'Project I', as the General called it, was coming along. Then I started to realise that I really wanted to see the man again, to sit and drink beer, to spend hours scrapping junk for parts, to turn the radio up and smile and laugh._

_The Catacombs stank. They were dark and musty. There was no music save Tinker Tom's awful humming and no joy. Deacon was the only one who smiled but it wasn't the kind that warmed your heart. It was the cold kind, the sort that never reached the eyes. I bet that's why he wore those damn shades._

Drummerboy ran up to Skyler. She was expecting Des or the Doc to want to see her but instead, he said: "Prof wants to see you. Something to do with your cover. Meet him in Starlight."

Skyler wondered why they could never talk straight, safe in their headquarters. She understood the message, though.

"Well well, back to the dayjob then. I must say, pretending to be a Minuteman is great cover. Don't think I could swing it, though. I prefer a little…variety, myself."

She had to shove her fist into her pocket to keep it from breaking those sunglasses right off his smug face. 'Pretending to be a Minuteman?' No. The Railroad smartass had got it backwards. She'd be having words with the General to get off this crappy assignment.

Despite Deacon insisting she get some rest, Skyler reported back to P.A.M. again, got her reward and a bolt of fine but very tough gunmetal grey fabric to line her clothes with. She couldn't get out of there fast enough.

* * * 

Starlight Drive-in was fast becoming a thriving town. Skyler made herself go straight past the food stall despite a tantalising whiff of radstag stew. She headed straight for the old workshop, now hidden by a medium sized barn and a group of junkers working their scav stations.

A deep voice carried through the hiss of blowtorches and the tink-tink-tink of hammers on metal. "I read you. Mac is on route, will send another hand or two soon." The muted radio reply was unmistakeably Blake Abernathy gratefully signing off.

"Corporal! I'm so glad you're here," Nate said, a big, genuine smile almost hiding how terrible he looked at the moment. His eyes were dark underneath, his cheeks becoming gaunt. Skyler was a little shocked at the change.

"Sir, reporting for duty sir."

"Come with me, Sky. Let's grab a bowl of something hot, shall we?" 

"I'll not argue with that but I'm buying this time."

General Nate Woods just smiled and nodded thankfully. They were soon sitting in a quiet corner as the sun gently touched the horizon. Street lighting came on and braziers were lit or stoked. The atmospheric luminescence did nothing to make Nate look any better and Skyler just had to say something.

"Sir….Nate? Are you alright? You look like you need a Radaway or somethin'."

"Nope, I'm rad-free with a full belly to boot. Just need a good night's sleep."

"Have you been feeling extra hungry or tired or weak?"

"What? Are you a doctor now?"

"No, just a Wasteland girl who knows what can bring a man down, beside brutes an' beasts."

"Well…it's nice to know someone cares. I've already seen Doc Forsythe. It isn't anything antibiotics can fix. I'm just real tired, Sky. Grieving an' tired."

Skyler patted his knee and sighed, letting herself think of her Ma and Pa briefly. She swigged some Nuka Quartz and asked, "How's the Project coming along? Is that what you need me for, to give um, give Sturges a hand?"

"Well, he could use the help but no, not right now. The couple at Tenpines are complaining that the Minutemen haven't lived up to their promise. I need you to go up there and help them build the basics. I sent a provisioner up ahead so most of what you need will be there. Raid my workshop for duct tape and oil. May have a few other bits you could use. Just help yourself."

"Thanks, boss. Give me an hour and I'm good to go."

"No you're not, soldier. Get six hours rack time and then your free to go."

" 'Rack'..?" Skyler raised an eyebrow. The General sometimes used words that had gone the way of the horse, words only the oldest Ghouls still knew.

"Kip. Zees. Shuteye."

"Well, you coulda just tol' me to get some sleep."

"Hmm." The General massaged the bridge of his nose.

"Think you should get some rack time too, sir," she observed.

"Sure, sure. New bunkhouse is that-a-way. Sleep tight, Skyler."

"You too, General."

* * * 

The couple up at Tenpines Bluff were relieved to see Skyler. A couple of volunteers had come over from Starlight with her so the settlement was sorted pretty quickly. They liked what they saw and decided to stay with Jack and Ena and between the five of them got a large genny, a mechanised water pump and some defenses in place. 

The following day, Skyler spotted a familiar green cap in her sights. She ran down to meet him, just past the old train. They clasped arms, grinning widely and exchanging how are you's. A few steps back towards Tenpines, they heard a shout from the old cottage. Approaching quietly but openly, they saw identical men, one kneeling in terror and one pointing a gun.

"I'm not a synth! You gotta believe me!"  
"He's lying, he stole my face! I'll do it, I will!"

"Woah, put the gun down and we can talk."

"Shoot him! He's the synth, please!" said the kneeling man. "I'm Art, the real one!"  
"Steal my name, too? You're dead! Don't believe him, he's not real! I'm real!"

Mac held back, confused but wary. Skyler looked at both men hard but when the kneeling Art pulled a gun as his twin stood over him, head turned away slightly, she acted.

He was nearest the ground, anyway. Skyler knelt down as the remaining Art staggered back mumbling 'Thankyou, thankyou!' and felt the base of the dead man's skull just as Doc Carrington had shown her. No hard lump. She spun around without getting up and shot Art number two in the back of the head. As his body collapsed to the ground, Mac exclaimed, "What the fu…Skyler, what did you _do_?"

She didn't answer straight away. Instead, she took a knife and prised out a lump of plastic like a domed bolt. She held it up, without looking at RJ stood behind her. "Took a chance. I was wrong." She went to the body of the real Art and covered his face. Very quietly, in a choked voice she whispered, "Sorry, Art."

Mac didn't know what to say. What he did know was that the Institute were sick bastards and that if they'd let the synth go, more would have died. When they got back to Tenpines, he discreetly asked if any of the settlers knew Art and Jack said he was a lone scavver, might have stolen some tatoes once.

Skyler was hitting nails into wood with more force than required. RJ let her be.

She finished her work by early evening and accepted the offer of a mattress for the night. However, she made MacCready sleep first as she couldn't stay still. The night was cool, clear, quiet. She thought she heard a Deathclaw in the distance but nothing came of it. Mac soon tapped her shoulder, wordlessly changing shift. He knew the guilt of shooting an innocent party. Hadn't done it again since his goatee had grown but he'd never forget, though he had forgiven himself. She just needed time, that was all. Life is Risk and some are just luckier than others.

The Corporal lay down her head, wiping smudged eyes with the collar of her shirt. She was tired, bone tired. Had she not spent the whole day doing manual labour, she would not have slept but her body took what it needed and the world went dark.

"Hey, wake up, sleepyhead! Look, Ena made us rock cakes!" Razorgrain flour, dried mutfruit and melon syrup did little to hide the distinct tang of mirelurk egg that held the mixture together but it was good. Skyler hadn't tasted these since her Ma made her that last batch, just before the raiders…no. No good spoiling a fine breakfast with sour thoughts. She took out her little mirror and makeup kit, touching up lipstick and eyeliner. Nevermind the smudge of grease or the bit of dried blood in her hair, for now at least.

They went over to the old airplane site to scav and ran into Ricky Dalton, a Railroad 'tourist' fighting off a handful of raiders. It was no competition and Ricky was grateful, handing Skyler a box of bobby pins and RJ a nearly full box of ammo. They must have picked a dozen suitcases; well, Skyler did. Mac tried and bust three precious hair pins in the process. Bags full, they carried on back toward Sanctuary.

* * *  
A campfire near Concord lit the scene, three figures standing, one with hands in the air. The snipers could make out the modified pipe pistols the man and woman held up to their dark-haired captive. None looked like raiders of any sort, just wastelanders and Skyler stood and just strode right up to them.

"Corporal Woods, Minutemen. Problem here, folks?"

The balding man spat his accusation: "He's a synth!"

Skyler's heart sank. 

"They've known me for a long while, I thought it was safe to tell my friends. I thought you were my friends!"

The woman sneered. "We thought you were a man but you're a synth, sent to kill us!"

"No, no, I told you, I escaped!"

Skyler spoke up. "If he meant you harm, he'd have done it already."

"That's right, that's right!" the nervous synth agreed.

"You're no friend of mine!" shouted the balding guy and aimed. He hadn't noticed MacCready lurking and the gun was shot out of his hand. Meanwhile, the woman raised her gun at the cowering synth but Skyler took her out. The man tried to attack her and so ended badly himself.

The synth was shocked. "I …should thank you, I suppose. I thought they were my friends!"

"Yeah. Well. They should have been friendlier." Skyler told him how to find Starlight and to promise not to go telling people what he was. "Just…be a better person than they were." He nodded, uttering gratitudes, gathered a few things from the bodies then ran off.

Skyler said nothing all the way to Red Rocket.

_Sometimes, I wish things were clear. If the bad guys glowed red and the good guys glowed white, it'd make things alot simpler, I told RJ once. He pointed out that actually, most would be some shade of pink. He voted to put bad guys in top hats and good guys in cloaks instead._

_The Synth problem was becoming like a radioactive contaminant. You couldn't tell it was there 'til something bad happened. I wanted to know why the Institute were doing it, seemed like an awful lot of trouble and waste of resources to make doubles. Then again, they seemed to be playing a game not unlike the Railroad. Sneaky, secretive, underhand._

_RJ helped me through the aftermath of our synth encounters. He made me realise how much I'd helped him and gave me this little wooden soldier. I wonderglued it to the top of the Red Rocket workshop so it'd guard the place for us. He liked that._

_We needed all the help we could get. Things were about to go South._


	13. South

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's hard to keep friends and allies sometimes and a silver lining only appears with the appearance of a very dark cloud.

_RJ and I spent some time at Abernathy Farm, helping them shore up their defences and start work on the farmhands' shacks. The General had plans for the substantial plot and the farm-girl side of me couldn't help but agree with him. RJ let slip that his homestead was like a much smaller version of this place, so Blake invited him to live there, if he fancied working the land. Mac declined of course, having already taken up Nate's offer to make a new home for him and little Duncan in Sanctuary, when the lad was fit to travel._

_We spent almost a fortnight there, living at the old garage and patrolling in ever increasing circles. Work was almost done when I got orders to man the gate at Covenant, recently cleared by the General and MacCready. Mac didn't want to talk much about it, neither did he want to return there so I left him at the farm. Anyway, besides meeting some decent folk during my brief stay at the now re-named settlement, that's a story for another time._

_He kept me moving, kept me circulating until the order came to report back to the Railroad. I felt my gut twist as he said it. Trust your guts, my Pa always said. If only they'd be more specific._

Dead drops. Safehouses. Rescues. The Railroad sure knew how to keep busy. One thing Skyler made sure of was that no cry for help would go unheeded if she could get there. Deacon silently tagged along, at first, relishing the chance for intel. When Railroad missions began to get sidelined for other 'errands', he began to get snarky.

"Seriously, Cherrybomb, I know its close but we have a safe route back to a safe house. Why risk the trip?"

"Because it's closer and I can get some good deals there. I am many things but I'm not a Brahmin, I just can't carry any more. Besides, I need to restock on ammo, too. You can visit Fallon's whilst we're there."

"Oh, now I wouldn't be so sure."

"In disguise. It's what you're good at."

"Weeeeell…Becky Fallon has this eerie superpower, you see. She's like my arch nemesis."

"Yeah, right. Got your scent, huh?"

"You sayin' I smell? Do I smell? Oh crapola, B.O. alert. That's what happens after I eat mirelurk, I did warn you."

Skyler just rolled her eyes and ignored the serial dresser as he flung the dull shirt into the street.

The journey to Diamond City was mostly uneventful, though a group of scavvers fighting unfamiliar robots peaked both their interests but not enough to actually get involved. Deacon tried a couple of times to change their route, arguing that a deaddrop point was nearby or a stash needed re-stocking. Skyler was having none of it though. She was tired of Deacon's lies and little mind-games already. He'd always argue that it was for the greater good, for the ideals of the Railroad or the safety of their secrets. Skyler thought they had far too many secrets for their own good.

"No diversions, Deacon, we're almost there. The old postbox can wait half a day."

"You've made your mind up, then," Deacon stated. He went quiet for a moment, then added, "Don't bother ordering any noodles for me, Cherrybomb."

It was almost at the gates of the Great Green Jewel when attackers ambushed them. Skyler was on point but it was Deacon who held back and caught lead. She turned and fired as fast as she could, the strange, part-robot raiders causing chaos. She thought that she saw Deacon flee the scene, put her scope to her eye and just caught him aiming right at her. A warning shot rang by her ear, having bounced off a trash bin nearby. He peered at her just over his shades and left.

He left. He'd shot at her and left. 

"Shit. Fucknuke! Shit!"

She got her ass into Diamond City as fast as she could and pounded on Piper's door.

"Hey, hey! Don't bust it, I'm comin'" The reporter peeped around the door. It was a little early still and the stallholders had just begun to appear.

"General said to use your radio, ma'am, if need arose."

"He did, did he? Well thanks Nate, for inviting complete strangers into my home," she added sarcastically.

"Piper, it's Skyler …Skyler Woods? Minutemen Corporal?"

"Oh, _now_ I remember you. Well, alrighty but be quick."

Skyler thanked her and hurried in, going straight to the ham radio and tuning into the General's frequency. "The lantern is broken. I repeat, the lantern is broken."

Nate soon replied. "End of the line. Message understood. Rendevous at site five a.s.a.p. Woods out."

She wasn't quite sure how it had happened but one thing was clear. The Railroad had just declared themselves enemies of the Minutemen. Stupid move.

* * *  
"It wasn't your fault, Skyler." Nate's words provided a little relief. It wasn't _just_ Skyler that the Railroad had rejected. It turned out that Nate's persistent requests to Desdemona to run human rescue missions as well as synth rescues went down badly. At first he got excuses about 'not enough resources', then that 'no-one else was helping the synths' and the downright argument that 'we're not halving our effectiveness when the Minutemen are looking out for the humans (sometimes the same humans who threaten the synths).' 

The General led his favourite Corporal up from the dock on Spectacle Island and halfway across it. A barnacle-like huddle of shacks actually hid a concrete enclosure, which contained the strangest machine Skyler had ever seen. Standing up on wooden scaffolding, partly hidden by mask and welding sparks, was the Minutemen's finest engineer.

Nate waited for the sparks to abate. "Hey, Sturges! You said you could use an extra pair of hands, will these do?"

Sturges switched off the torch and pulled his mask back to its usual place around his neck. He climbed down, shouting "Well howdy, General."

Turning to Skyler, he held out his hand to take hers. "Good to see you again, Mis…I mean, Corporal." He made a show of examining her hand. "Reckon these'll fit in some tricky places. Yup, just what I needed, Nate." His genuine smile held not a trace of innuendo.

Skyler did something she rarely managed: she blushed. She had helped to begin fixing up Sanctuary months ago but had never been working on the same project as the beefy mechanic, though she'd had a fair few dreams about doing just that.

"Great, just let me know what you need and point me at it!" Skyler said eagerly.

The General pulled up a rickety old steel and plastic chair. She noticed how he slumped in it, how his hand shook as he drank a can of purified water. 

"Got a radio in here?" Skyler asked.

"In that pile over there. Don't work, though," Sturges pointed out.

"It will soon. I work better to music," she smiled. Sturges grinned at her, nodding in agreement.

Before long, rock was rolling out of the little speaker. She had to place it high up on a bodged together shelf as the concrete interfered with the signal. Nate smiled and started tapping his foot.

"Hey, General? Why don't you catch some Z's?" she suggested.

"Because it's only three in the afternoon," Nate argued.

"Sir, no offence but you look awful. There's no one here but us mechanics and you won't hear us work from the bunk in the old workshop."

"Actually, Sky, think I'll head back to the Castle and sleep in my own bed."

He took her by the shoulders gently. "Nora would've liked you. She wanted more kids after Shaun, y'know. We get him back, I'm promoting you to honourary big sister, okay?"

"We'll get him back, sir. Give us two or three days to get this contraption working, you'll see him again. Best thing you can do is rest. Let Preston handle the preparation."

"Just like Nora, always knowing what's best for me. You're right. I'll go and sleep, now." The General looked deep into her eyes, then embraced her. "Thankyou, Skyler. For everything." Nate walked away, down the hill to the boat. She watched him for a moment as he rowed away across the sun-sprinkled waves.

"Righty, we got a stabiliser rod to fit then the wirin' in the console needs strippin' out and replacin'. Got the right tools?" Sturges asked.

"And then some," she replied. Rocket 69 came on the radio but for some reason, she didn't feel like jiving.

* * *

Two days later, they finally downed tools. Sturges and Skyler had worked well together and the mechanic had been impressed with her skills and the rate at which she absorbed new knowledge. She was currently riding the high that goes with finishing a project and the Nuka Cherry in her system, the rock and roll in her ears and the Sugarbombs she'd shared an hour ago kicked in.

Sturges was suddenly confronted by a flying hug as Skyler launched herself at him, wrapping her legs round his hips and hugging him hard. "Whoo! We did it!" she yelled joyfully.

"Whoa there darlin'! Hey heh. Yeah. Well, um." The poor guy didn't know what to say. His soft brown eyes just lingered on her deep blue ones. Her hand landed softly, warmly on his jawline, fingertips playing with his sideburns. Sturges shifted his strong arms to hold her up.

"Sturges?" she said quietly. "You got a first name?"

" 'course." He said bluntly.

"Well, what is it?"

"You won't tell no-one, will ya? I mean, Preston knows. Mamma Murphy too but…"

"No, I won't…because you just asked me not to."

Sturges chewed his tongue for a moment then said "It's Theodore."

"Theodore?"

"Don't laugh now."

"I wasn't going to. Besides, it shortens to 'Teddy' an' I happen to think that really suits you."

"Always tole myself I'd only let a girlfriend call me that," he said, frowning.

"Are you saying…you wanna go steady, Teddy?"

That made him laugh. "Y'know I fancied you the moment I saw you walk over that bridge? Most beautiful person I ever laid eyes on."

Skyler slipped down and stood in front. He was a head taller than her. "You're just the kind sorta guy I always dreamed about finding. I don't….I don't usually let myself get too close. Not since I was young. I tend to freak guys out."

"I don't see how that's possible, gorgeous."

"Well, you might. Just take things slow alright, big guy?"

"I'm not in a rush, doll. Say, lemme make dinner, alright? I warn you now I'm not the best cook but I ain't bad."

Skyler reached up and drew him into a long, slow, gentle kiss. It would have been longer but their radios both crackled simultanously and Preston's voice cut in.

"To all ranking Minutemen, report to the Castle at once. General Woods is dead."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End of Part One!
> 
> I hope that you've enjoyed this story so far. I write based on actual gameplay so this first part has been a bit of a brain teaser, figuring out which missions Nate was on and with whom and which parts could be left to our unlikely heroine. Part 2 should be a little easier, though now I need to catch up with my gameplay! (I've not even actually visited Virgil yet!)
> 
> Thankyou to theTumblr fan artists who have done portraits and aesthetic boards based on Skyler Katrijnora Woods. 
> 
> Visit it here: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/theartofblossoming


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